Dabbling in Destiel
by bad-wolf-and-her-lonely-angel
Summary: 30 Day OTP Writing Challenge. Destiel. Each day is a one-shot. These were the first Dean/Cas fics that I ever wrote! Rated T, will change to M later.
1. Day One

_Day One - Holding Hands_

Dean had told them that he was going to grab dinner. But instead, he ended up here, with a bouquet of roses in his unsteady hands, feet squishing in the mud as he crossed the wet grass of the cemetery. It had rained earlier today. It smelled nice, Dean thought.

Sam, Dean, and Cas were investigating a case in Smithboro, Illinois, tracking an insanely powerful demon that had recently emerged from the throes of hell. Sam was hard at work researching or something, and Cas had vanished just before Dean left. He figured he had a little time to spare. It was only about a ten-minute drive from their crappy motel to the graveyard in Greenville, due west of the grocery store Dean had stopped at to grab a couple sandwiches and the flowers. Despite the fact that he had refused to visit it before, Dean knew exactly where to look for the headstone he wanted to see, and before he knew it, he was standing in front of Mary Winchester's grave.

"Hi, Mom," he said quietly, feeling awkward in the silence of the empty cemetery. He looked down at the engraved slab of stone in front of him and tried to swallow back the lump in his throat. He wasn't going to cry, not now. "It's been a while. Thought I'd stop by. Brought you these." Dean placed the white roses on the ground in front of the headstone. "You always liked those ones. Dad used to give them to you sometimes. I remember that."

Christ, is this what normal people did? He knew that she probably couldn't hear him, but he continued talking anyway. "Um, I hope it's nice up there in heaven. I wish Dad were there with you, but you know, he kind of went downstairs instead, so… I don't know. I hope you're happy, I guess. I wish I knew what your heaven looked like. I bet it's beautiful, whatever it is." Dean paused. What else should he say? "I… I miss you a lot. But we're doing good, Mom. Well, yeah, I mean, considering. We're doing our best. I'm taking care of Sammy, just like I promised, we're saving as many people as we can, and we have Bobby and Cas… have you met Cas? He's an angel, I don't know if you've seen him around up there or anything, but he's our friend and he's pretty great. I think you'd like him a lot. Well, if he ever stops by your little piece of paradise, promise me you'll invite him in for tea or something." Dean cleared his throat. It was getting harder for him to talk; he was kind of choked up all of the sudden.

"Oh, mom? I almost forgot. If you see Ellen and Jo, will you tell them I said… well, that I'm sorry? You'll bump into them sooner or later, and I know you don't know them, but they'll know you. Make sure they know that. Do that for me, please." Dean hung his head for a moment and closed his eyes. He wasn't going to pretend that he could feel her presence there or anything stupid like that, but something about spilling to a piece of rock was kind of therapeutic.

He was surprised when he heard the familiar flapping of wings behind him, but didn't turn to look. "Hey, Cas."

"Hello, Dean," came the angel's reply, his deep voice quiet and softer than usual. "Hello, Mary." Dean smiled at that. Castiel had moved to Dean's side, but instead of staring down at the headstone, he looked straight ahead, as if he could see Dean's mother standing right there in front of them. "Nice to meet you. I'm sorry I haven't had a chance to properly introduce myself to you yet."

"Jesus, Cas, what are you? My girlfriend?"

Cas didn't answer him, though. "Mary, I just want you to know how incredible your son is." Dean quieted. "That's why I went to rescue him from hell. And I want you to know that I will do everything within my power to keep him safe. That's a promise." And then, Castiel's hand slipped into Dean's and squeezed, and the angel smiled. "I'll try to keep him from doing anything too stupid."

Dean couldn't help but laugh at that, but it came out as half of a sob, and suddenly there were tears rolling down his cheeks. But Cas just stood there, holding his hand. It took Dean a few minutes to get himself under control, and all the while, his angel just stood there in silence, keeping him grounded with a simple touch.

When Dean finally wiped away the wetness from his cheeks and got his breathing back to normal, he turned to Cas and looked at him for the first time since he had appeared. "Thank you," he said.

Castiel merely nodded, the hints of a kind smile on his lips. Dean breathed in the crisp February air, sighing deeply before he spoke again, this time directed back at the grave.

"I love you, Mom."

He had been gone now for almost twenty minutes. "I think I'm ready to go now," he told Cas, smiling genuinely for the first time in a while, "and Sam's probably thinking I got beat up by that punk-ass demon. Come on." He steered Cas around, and with their hands swinging between them, started back towards the Impala.

"Do I get to ride in the front now?" Cas asked him when they reached the car. He paused a second, looking at the angel who was holding his hand, with his dirty old trench coat and crooked blue tie, his big blue eyes hopeful. Dean grinned.

"Yeah, Cas. You can ride in the front now."

And the whole way home, Dean drove with one hand. He wasn't going to let go of his angel just yet.


	2. Day Two

_Day Two - Cuddling Somewhere_

Cas had never seen Dean look this pale.

When Sam told him that Dean was sick, Cas assumed that meant Dean had a cough, or a runny nose, or something of that sort. But the sounds of retching coming from the direction of the bathroom quickly disproved that theory. A few minutes after Cas had appeared in their motel room, Dean came staggering out of the bathroom, wiping his mouth with his sleeve, his face completely drained of color.

"Shit," Sam murmured. "Alright. I'm going to town to find some drugs. Cas, make him lie down on the couch or something and don't let him get up, okay? I'll be back soon." He grabbed the keys to the Impala and his coat before leaving, slamming the door behind him.

Dean collapsed on the couch. "Son of a bitch," he said under his breath, his voice rougher than usual. "It's freezing in here. Cas, get me a blanket." Castiel obliged, pulling the thin red blanket from the bed that was unmade (which he assumed was Dean's). He grabbed a pillow, too, which he propped under Dean's head before covering him with the blanket. "Thanks." Cas nodded. With a cough, Dean reached out of the remote and flipped on the TV. Cas wasn't quite sure what to do, but he had to keep an eye on Dean, so he just stood next to the bed and watched Dean.

It was only a few minutes before Sam called. When the phone rang, Dean looked miserably at the bedside table where it was laying. He groaned, burying his face in the pillow. "Caaaaaaaas," he whined, "answer the phone."

"Hello, Sam," Cas said when he found the green 'call' button. He was still getting used to the phones. "This is Castiel, by the way, not Dean."

Sam paused for a second. "Yeah, I kinda got that, thanks. Listen, I can't figure out which medicine to get. Can you check and see if Dean has a fever?"

Cas frowned, moving to the couch and waiting for Dean to move his feet so Cas could sit down. "Alright, I'll check. Hold on." He set the phone on the coffee table, and looked at Dean, who had his eyes trained on the television. Finally, he seemed to feel Cas' eyes on him, and spared him a glance.

"…What?" Dean asked.

"I'm supposed to check if you have a fever." Cas paused.

"Okay, Doc, what are you waiting for?" Dean asked.

Cas looked around the room awkwardly. "How do I check if you have a fever?"

Dean gave him his 'hell if I know' look. "Christ, Cas, I have a friggin' GED! I'm not a damn doctor!" He grumpily turned back towards the television, pulling the blanket up to his chin. Cas sighed and picked up the phone.

"Sam? How do I check if he has a fever?"

Castiel could practically see Sam rubbing his face in frustration. "I'd tell you to use a thermometer, but one of you would probably break it. Just… feel his forehead. If it's really hot, then he has a fever." The phone went back on the table.

"Dean?" Cas started. "Can you sit up so I can feel your forehead, please?"

Cas was given an incredulous look from Dean, but he sat up anyway. "Make it quick," Dean grumbled. "I'm tired." Castiel nodded and placed his fingers to Dean's forehead. The skin was sweaty and much warmer than human's skin was supposed to be.

"Yes, Dean, I think you do have a fever." Cas picked up the phone again. "Sam? Dean's skin is unusually hot. I think it's a fever." Sam thanked him, saying something about a thing called 'flu' and that he would be home in ten minutes before hanging up.

Dean was glaring at him when he put the phone down. "Can I go to sleep now? I feel like a pile of crap."

Cas nodded again, but stopped him before he laid down. "Do you want me to help? I don't know how to cure what you have, but I can at least try to take away the fever," Cas said nervously.

"Seriously?" Dean responded, his eyes lighting up for the first time today. "Your angel mojo can do that?"

"I think so," Cas said. "Come here." He held out his index and middle finger, waiting for Dean to lean into them, which Dean did, eyes closed. He touched Dean's feverish skin and felt it cool immediately. "Better?" he asked when he saw Dean crack an eye open.

Dean grinned tiredly. "Yeah. Thanks, man. But I'm still tired as hell. Nap time." But now, instead of going back to his pillow, Dean pulled the blanket around and leaned his head on Castiel's shoulder. He closed his eyes, and his breathing evened out. Within seconds, he was fast asleep. Cas was slightly confused as to what to do with himself, but then he remembered seeing this in one of those movies that Sam liked to watch when Dean wasn't around. Of course, that had been with a very muscular young man and a pretty blonde girl, but Cas was fairly sure this was the same kind of situation. So, very carefully, as not to wake Dean, he stretched his arm around Dean's shoulder that was rising and falling slowly in time with his breath. That felt better. It was actually kind of nice, Cas thought.

They were still sitting like that when Sam got home, Cas carding his fingers through Dean's hair with his free hand. Sam chuckled as he set a grocery bag down in front of them. "Are you two… cuddling?" He laughed again. "Well, it was only a matter of time." Cas didn't reply, but instead stored that one word away inside his head for later. Cuddling with Dean. Yes. He smiled. Cuddling was good.

On the short list of things he had experienced on Earth, Cas thought that just maybe, cuddling was the only human thing that was better than cheeseburgers.


	3. Day Three

_Day Three - Watching a Movie_

"Alright, Cas," Dean grinned, plopping down on the couch and settling in, "get ready for the best cinematic experience of your entire life." He grabbed a handful of popcorn from the bowl he was carrying and shoved it into his mouth.

Cas was perched on the edge of the couch, looking uncomfortable, as always. He eyed the table of food and beverages in front of them; Dean had set out things like licorice, several bowls of popcorn, and a couple of beers, among other things. "Yes, you said that before. What exactly are we watching again?" Sam and Bobby had long since gone to sleep, but Dean wanted to have a movie night and Cas was the only one around to socialize with, so Dean had made him promise to sit and watch with him.

"Star Trek!" Dean took a swig of the open beer before continuing. "2009, Chris Pine and Zachary Quinto. Best thing since the Shatner era. Sam always liked Picard, but man, no one beats Kirk. And the graphics in this movie kick _ass_."

Cas sat and pretended to listen while Dean rambled. When he was finally done talking, Cas looked at him blankly. "I don't know any of those things you just spoke of. What exactly is a Shatner?" Dean rolled his eyes.

"Just watch the movie."

The movie started, and Cas seemed confused, but Dean watched him become more and more invested as time passed, even smiling sometimes at the jokes. Of course, Dean had to explain a few things (Cas had no idea what the heck a "Starfleet" was), but he did really seem to enjoy it, especially when they figured out how to beam onto a ship traveling at warp speed and when Old Spock finally met New Spock.

When the credits rolled, Dean turned to Cas. "What did you think?"

"Very good," Cas responded, smiling before his brows furrowed. "I have a difficult time understanding the relationship between the young captain and the Vulcan-human, though."

Dean pondered that for a moment. "I dunno, Cas." He tried to figure out a way to explain it that the angel would understand. "They're a lot like us, I think. Like… I'm Captain Kirk, cause I'm a badass, and you're Commander Spock, because you're really smart and not human and kind of awkward. And they don't like each other at first because they were raised differently and they kind of butt heads a lot, but in the end they turn out to be pretty good friends."

Cas thought about what Dean had said, and then nodded and smiled. "Yes," he said, "yes, that makes much better sense now."

After that, Cas begged Dean to let him watch Tangled again. Dean had no idea why it was at Bobby's house in the first place, but Cas had found the Disney film and watched it and sworn that Rapunzel's eyes were just like Dean's, and of course, it was now his favorite movie. It took a couple minutes of pleading, but Dean said yes. He wouldn't admit to anyone that it was just because he wanted to see Castiel's eyes light up the way they did when he watched it (and he secretly thought that the Flynn character was awesome), but that was why.

So he took another swig of his beer and settled back onto the comfortable couch, his eyes turned towards his Cas, who was humming along with the opening song, and Dean smiled. He liked watching good movies, but he liked watching his angel better.

He dozed a bit in the middle, but was awake for the end to see Cas beaming at the wedding part. Damn, he was cute. Dean yawned and laid his head back on the couch as the final song played. "Dean?" Castiel asked quietly.

"Yeah, Cas?"

"Can we watch Titanic?" Dean rolled his head over to see Cas holding another movie case in his hand, with a giant sinking boat on its cover.

He chuckled. "That? Nah, man, such a bad chick flick. You can watch that with Sam another time. Plus I need some shut-eye. Thanks for doing movie night with me." Dean stood, bid good night to Cas, and turned to walk to the room where he slept. Titanic, man, what a joke. He would never watch that movie with anyone, especially Castiel.

Because there was no way in _hell _(or heaven, for that matter) that Dean was going to let Cas see him cry over a sinking boat.


	4. Day Four

_Day Four - On a Date_

The Impala was parked on an abandoned dirt road, the windows rolled down in the evening August heat. It was unusually warm this particular night. Dean and Cas were sitting in the front seats, music playing softly from the stereo as they sat together and listened. It was a gorgeous night: clear skies, new moon, and a nice breeze that drifted occasionally through the car. They were on a date.

Their first date, to be exact. Cas had approached Dean the other day and blatantly stated that he desired to go out with Dean. And Dean wasn't about to turn him down. But since he couldn't really take Cas to do a lot of normal things (Cas didn't eat or drink, which left hardly any options), Dean decided that they were going to sit in the Impala all night while he taught Cas about music. He figured as long as Cas was here with him and not flying around heaven somewhere, he might as well teach his angel the important stuff. So he gathered all his good music that he had collected on cassette tapes and CD's, pulled Cas into the car, and drove until he found a big field and an empty road to park on, and popped in an AC/DC tape.

They had jumped around a bit at first until Dean decided that the best way for Cas to learn was probably chronologically. So they had gone through some 60's and almost all of the 70's, and they were in the middle of Chicago II when Dean remembered. "Hey, let me into the glove box for a second." He reached across Cas to dig through the phones and two handguns and some papers before pulling out a broken, cracked CD case. He had worn out the old tape, but found out a couple years ago that Sam had the album on his iTunes and promptly demanded that Sam burn him a copy to keep in the car. It was '1' by the Beatles, and of course, it was his favorite. He paused the tape that was playing and put the CD in. "I think you'll like this one, Cas."

Halfway through the first song, Cas was smiling. "I have heard this music before," he said. "Jimmy used to listen to this band. This is a very good memory of his."

When "Hey Jude" played, Dean smiled softly. "My mom used to sing this to me when I couldn't sleep." He paused. "No one else but my dad knew that. I've never told anyone." Cas didn't respond, but he reached over for Dean's hand. Dean took it, interlacing their fingers and holding on tight. Then he had an idea. "Cas. Come here." He climbed out of the car, his angel following close behind. "Gimme your coat," Dean said, and once Cas had slipped it off and handed it over, Dean spread it out on the hood of the Impala. He climbed up and laid on the jacket, "C'mere, you," he beckoned, and he held out an arm so that Cas could lie next to him and cuddle into Dean's side. "Now look."

And it was laying like this, with the sounds of Lennon and McCartney serenading them softly, that Cas and Dean sat and watched the stars. Cas knew the names of all the stars in the sky – not the scientific ones, but the God-given ones – and he pointed them out one by one, as if now it was his turn to teach Dean. So they laid there for hours, enjoying the warmth and closeness of each other's bodies, talking softly, but mostly listening, to the sound of the music, and Cas to the sound of Dean's breathing, and Dean to the simple and beautiful melody that was Castiel's presence next to him. It was just nice, having someone who knew all the things you had done, every mistake you had made, someone who still wanted to be with you despite all of that. This thing with Cas, whatever it was, was good. The angel had the mojo to fix him up whenever he got hurt on the outside. Maybe he could fix up all the cracks inside of Dean, too.

So yes, he had let Cas into his heart. And now he could start to make it better.


	5. Day Five

_Day Five - Kissing_

The war raged on.

Heaven was currently occupied with a full-on battle for the role of God, and Sam and Dean had absolutely no idea what was happening. Castiel's visits came less frequently, and every time he did show up the information he gave to them was scarce. Balthazar was no help at all, and they were not yet desperate enough to trust anything Crowley would tell them. So they were left in the dark, out of the loop, fending for themselves and hunting what they could to distract themselves until they know more.

They had tracked down a couple of demons in Pennsylvania, the first they had seen in months. Sam was asleep in the passenger seat. They had left Bobby's a couple hours ago, and it was getting close to one in the morning. Dean figured they would be in the state by noon. He sighed. This was really, really hard. Somewhere in the past year, Dean had gotten so used to having Cas there when he needed him, so now, when the line was busy, it sucked. Not to mention the fact that he was terrified for Cas. He didn't know what the angel was up against with Raphael and his garrison and whatever else was going on. All he wanted to do was help, but Cas wouldn't tell him anything. He didn't know what he'd do if Cas was gone for good. Dean just wanted the angel safe. He sighed, silently calling out to Cas, hoping that wherever he was, he could hear Dean's voice. _Please, Cas. We need you. Let us help you. Tell us what to do. Please. Be safe, Cas. Come back to me, please._

They were holed up the next day in the motel in Lancaster. It turned out that there were way more demons than they had expected; there were at least eight, probably ten of them. Sam and Dean were having to rethink their plan a little bit. Dean was sitting on the bed, cleaning guns, sharpening knives, preparing holy water and salt rounds, while Sam was doing something on his laptop. It would be so nice to have some intel right now, or Castiel's demon-smiting powers. Hell, he didn't even want that. He just wanted some word, some sign that Cas was okay. _Damn it, Cas,_ Dean thought. _We need you. I need you. Come back. Please._

Later on, when Sam snapped and got locked up in the mental hospital with Lucifer in his head, Dean stood outside the room, watching Sam look at things and wince at sounds that didn't exist. Cas was gone hell knows where, the Leviathan were on the loose, and his brother was a crack case who couldn't function properly. A tear slipped down Dean's cheek, and for the first time in his life, he folded his hands to pray. He sat in one of the hospital's uncomfortable metal chairs and bowed his head. _Cas,_ he pleaded silently. _Castiel. Look at what a mess this is. I don't know how to fix it. I can't do this without you. Please, come home to me. I know that heaven is your place, not here, but this has got to be more home than wherever you are now. Please. I know you can hear me. You can hear me, can't you? I'm falling apart, Cas, I need you. You belong here with me, so please. Come back._

When Dean found Emmanuel, when he looked into those eyes again for the first time in months, he knew he had to try one last time. He refused to lose hope in his angel. So in the Impala, driving to the hospital to save Sammy, he tried his hardest to ignore Meg's snarky comments and Emmanuel's questions as he tightened his grip on the steering wheel and attempted again to get through to his angel. _Come on, Cas. _He glanced over at the man sitting in the passenger seat, the one who looked just like the angel Dean had been looking for, but was not. _I know you're in there. You're so close. _ _So close. You're the only one who can fix my brother. Just come back! I know you can do it, I can almost feel you there. I need you now more than ever. Cas… Cas, I love you. Come on, now. Come back to me._ But there was no response. Nothing changed, and Dean was left with nothing to do but drive and hope that this shell of his angel could fix the mess he had left behind.

"I remember you."

Bodies of dead demons scattered the ground, and Castiel, angel of the Lord, turned around and stood in front of Dean.

"I remember everything."

Dean followed Cas when he tried to leave, up the hill and back towards the Impala. He understood why Cas was upset, but he really needed the angel to help him out with his brother at the moment. "Cas? Cas!" he shouted. And they fought. They yelled at each other. Cas deserved to die, he told Dean, he couldn't fix it. But Dean knew that he was wrong. He just needed something. "Wait," he told the angel.

Dean opened the trunk, pulling out Cas' coat. "I kept it, and it's stupid, I know. I just hoped that… I couldn't stop hoping you'd be back. Take it." He shoved it towards the angel without looking at him. "Take it, please." But instead of feeling a hand grabbing the coat like he was expecting, there was a hand resting on his cheek. He looked up, and Cas was incredibly close, his blue eyes piercing Dean.

"Thank you," Castiel whispered, and leaned in and pressed his lips to Dean's.

It was awkward and imperfect, as Dean guessed that Cas hadn't really kissed that many people before, and his lips were actually pressed more to the corner of Dean's mouth, but he didn't have time to think about that. It was over within seconds. "Cas," Dean whispered in the space between their mouths.

"I promised myself that if I ever got back, that would be the first thing I did. Dean, I don't know what is going to happen, so I just wanted to make sure you knew that I am truly sorry for the pain I have caused you. I care about you, Dean. I'll do everything in my power to right these wrongs." He pulled back and gently took the worn trench coat from Dean's hands. Slipping it over his shoulders, he motioned for Dean to follow. "Come. Show me where Sam is."

And later, with Sam sitting next to him in the car and Cas locked up tight in the hospital, all Dean could remember was that kiss. Cas hadn't mentioned anything about hearing Dean's prayers, but Dean couldn't care less at this point. He had gotten his angel back, even if it was only for a short time. And someday, when Cas got better, Dean would go back for him again. He would always go back for Cas. And he would never stop hoping.


	6. Day Six

_Day Six - Wearing Each Other's Clothes_

"Hey, Dean. Dean. Wake up."

Dean groaned, turning over in his bed. He cracked one eye open to see who was calling him. He didn't expect to see the pair of blue eyes that was waiting only inches away from his face. He yelped, jumping backwards and accidentally falling off the bed on the hardwood floor of the motel.

"Dammit, Cas!" Dean shouted, sitting up and rubbing his head. "I was – what the hell?" The angel stood in front of him, smiling, but he wasn't wearing his usual holy tax collector getup. Actually, it looked like he was wearing Dean's clothes. He was in jeans (wow, Dean had never noticed what a nice ass Cas had), a black v-neck, and one of Dean's green jackets, as well as a pair of boots that were way too big for his feet. In fact, all of the clothes were too big for him. Dean almost started laughing. "Cas? Why are you wearing my clothes?"

"It's Halloween, Dean!" Cas was grinning hard. "I'm you!"

Dean chuckled, climbing off the ground. "Looks good on you, even though it's a little big. Maybe we'll have to buy you some real clothes." Cas nodded, still smiling excitedly. Dean looked around the room. His brother wasn't around, so Dean assumed he was out getting food. As if on cue, his stomach grumbled. Sam better bring him something, he thought.

Cas wandered into the bathroom while he waited for Dean to dress. He looked at himself in the mirror. He liked these clothes very much. They were comfortable, and they smelled like Dean. He inspected his hair in the mirror. If he truly wanted to look like Dean for this Halloween "costume," he had to make his hair do the thing that Dean's did, where it stood up in the front. Cas started digging around the bathroom, hoping he could find whatever sort of product it was that Dean used to make his hair look so nice.

He was playing around with his own dark hair, trying to push it up with his fingers, when Dean called him. "Hey, Cas! Come look." The angel emerged from the bathroom, only to see Dean standing in front of him, no longer in his boxers as he had been. "I'm you!" Dean told him.

And that he was. He was wearing Cas' black trousers, with the white shirt tucked in and the blue tie around his neck. He was pulling on the tan coat as he spoke. Castiel surveyed the human he was so fond of. He looked rather nice, actually. The clothes were a little small, and the shirt pulled tightly across Dean's chest, but Cas certainly didn't mind that. Dean came up and hugged Castiel, planting a quick little kiss on the bridge of his nose. "Happy Halloween," he said.

Cas giggled (actually _giggled_) and started back towards the bathroom. "Just so you know, I'm strongly considering changing clothes with you more often," the angel said. Dean's eyes fell downwards and watched Castiel's ass as he sauntered away. He smirked.

"I could get behind that."


	7. Day Seven

_Day Seven - Cosplaying_

(a continuation of day three)

"Sam! Hurry up, man, we're going to be late!" Dean called, pinning on the insignia to his yellow shirt. He looked in the mirror a final time to check his costume and ran his hand through his hair, which was combed (very classily) to the side. Hell yeah. "Hey, Cas," he said to the angel, "lemme see."

Castiel was across the room, pulling on the long-sleeved blue shirt over his tight black t-shirt. He smoothed out his black slacks and turned to look at Dean. "How does it look?" the angel asked. Dean grinned and tossed him his pin.

"Awesome."

The boys were headed to a Star Trek convention in Chicago. They happened to be passing through at the time, and after Dean and Cas had their movie night, they were both excited to go and drag Sam along with them. Dean, of course, was Kirk, and that meant that Cas had to be Spock. Dean had gone out and bought their shirts and hand drawn the insignia, and even sewed gold rope to the sleeves for the rank braids (though not very well; his sewing skills were not up to par). Sam was kind of pissed when Dean threw a red shirt at him and told him he was going to be Nyota, just not as hot, but he wasn't going to miss out on the action. It was rumored that William Shatner himself was going to be speaking at the convention, not to mention the guys that played Chekov and Sulu and Scotty in the newest movie. No way that any of them, especially Dean, could pass up that opportunity.

"C'mere, Cas," Dean beckoned, pointing to the chair in front of him. "We need to do your eyebrows!" Dean had found some cheap-ass makeup at this costume store that would cover up Castiel's real eyebrows so that he could draw Spock's cool ones on instead. So Cas sat down, and Dean whispered, "Close your eyes." The angel obeyed, and Dean started brushing the makeup on carefully until both of Cas' eyebrows were covered. His fingers brushed gently over Castiel's temples. "Sorry, Cas, I've got to do this to draw them on. I'm almost finished, though."

Cas kept a straight face. "I don't mind."

Once Dean had finished drawing on the eyebrows, he looked down and noticed that Cas' eyes were still closed. He wasn't that far away. Dean could so easily just lean down and kiss him right then, and it would take so little effort. His eyes darted down to Castiel's lips. They were chapped, dry like always, but he watched Cas' tongue dart out and wet them, lips hanging partially open, and Dean had never wanted to kiss anyone more in his entire life. But of course, Cas just had to open one of his eyes just a crack, peeking up at Dean. "How does it look?" he asked eagerly.

Dean forced a smile. "It looks so awesome, Cas. You look just like Spock." Cas grinned and stood up to go look in the mirror. Dean exhaled in frustration. So close.

Cas turned back around. "Shall we be going, then?" He stood near the door, waiting.

"Sammy! Come on, we're leaving!" Dean yelled. There was a muffled reply from the direction of the bathroom, but he ignored it. He pulled the door open and swept his hand out, motioning for Castiel to go first. "After you, Commander."

Cas smiled. "Thank you, Captain," he replied teasingly. Dean raised his hand, separating his middle and ring finger.

"Live long and prosper," he said in a goofy voice, and they both laughed as they left the motel room. Dean watched Cas as he walked to the Impala, blue shirt stretching delightfully across the muscles of his back when he swung his arms and reached for the car door. Dean sighed again. He would have to tell Cas about his feelings sooner or later, before this got more out of hand than it already was.

Soon, he told himself. Soon.


	8. Day Eight

_Day Eight - Shopping _

"I like these ones, Dean." Castiel held out a t-shirt with some goofy saying on the front, grinning. "Get it? It's a pun." Dean looked closer. _I'm a fungi_, it said, with a picture of a smiling mushroom next to it. The t-shirt itself was bright green with yellow lettering, and it sat folded on a table of other supposedly 'funny' shirts. Dean rolled his eyes.

"No, Cas, we're not getting one of those. We're shopping for normal clothes for you, remember? That's… not normal. I don't know what that is. Come on." Dean grabbed Cas by the arm, pulling him towards the section where he normally got his clothes. They were in a Kohl's in some city in Colorado. After seeing Cas trying on some of his clothes on Halloween, Dean decided it was time to get rid of Cas' holy tax collector outfit and get him some real clothes that fit him but didn't make him look like a weirdo.

Dean figured that Cas was a little smaller than him, so he grabbed a couple pairs of jeans that were one size down from his. He draped them over Cas' arm and motioned for him to keep following, looking for shirts now. He glanced around made a beeline for the spot that held his usual selection of flannels. "Here, take these and find a dressing room." He placed in his arms a number of plaid shirts, some nice cotton t-shirts (with no dumb jokes on them, thank God), and for his own benefit, a couple of particularly tight long-sleeved numbers that he had a feeling would accent Cas' chest and arms very nicely. "Try some of this on, and I'm going to go look for a couple other things you need. Okay?" Cas nodded and left in the direction of the dressing rooms. Dean hoped that the angel would actually be able to interact with the attendants if he needed to. Oh well.

Besides a pair of shoes, the only other thing Cas really needed was some socks and underwear. Of course, that left Dean wondering whether Cas (well, Jimmy, really) wore boxers or briefs, which led to him wondering what Cas looked like in said boxers or briefs, which led him to thinking about cold showers and awkwardly adjusting the front of his jeans. _Focus, Dean_, he thought to himself. He ended up carrying a couple pairs of generic black briefs and a six-pack of socks back to the dressing room, where he nodded to the woman attending the counter and went back to find Cas. "Hey, Cas?" he called softly.

"Over here," came the response from around the corner, and there was Cas, standing in front of a mirror in blue flannel, black v-neck, and a pair of dark jeans that fit around his ass incredibly well. Dean let out a low whistle.

"Wow," he said. "Glad we decided to go shopping." Cas smiled and retreated back into the room, shutting the door before Dean could follow him, shove him against the wall, and show Cas exactly what he thought about the new clothing.

They left, tossing the selected clothing, along with the new undergarments, into a basket. "Alright, that's done, so now we gotta get shoes for you," Dean said, looking for a sign that would lead them to the appropriate section. But Cas wasn't following. Dean turned around, and spotted Cas standing in front of the same display he had gone to when they first got into the store, looking disdainfully at the brightly colored shirts there. "Coming?" Dean asked. Cas fixed him with a pleading look, his blue eyes wide and resembling a puppy-dog entirely too well.

"Please, Dean?" he asked. Damn it. Dean could not say no when Cas looked at him like that.

"Fine," he groaned, and Cas was beaming happily as he plucked up one of the shirts and put it with the others in the blue basket. Dean couldn't help but chuckle. His angel was too cute when he got that excited.

"Come on, let's go. I wanna get back to the motel room," he said, placing his hand on Castiel's back and nudging him forwards. He leaned down to whisper in the angel's ear. "I want to see if those clothes look better on the bedroom floor than they do on you." Cas, however, gave him a look of confusion, which Dean should have expected. He laughed loudly as they kept walking.

"Never mind, Cas. Never mind."


	9. Day Nine

_Day Nine - Hanging Out With Friends_

It was a Thursday night. Ellen and Jo were in the area, having just finished a job in North Dakota, and decided they would drop by Bobby's house for dinner. Even Cas had promised to hang around. Sam was in the kitchen, chatting with Ellen while they chopped vegetables, and Jo was stirring soup while trying to teach Cas to slice bread without smashing it. Bobby was off somewhere, doing God knows what, which left Dean to set the table. He moved a couple extra chairs around the old kitchen table, and grabbed some plates and glasses. Dean meandered around the kitchen, listening to the soft banter and laughter, the clinking of the silverware he was laying down, the gentle hiss of the soup on the stove, and he couldn't help but smile. This was the closest to a family that he had, so it was nice to have everyone together being all… domestic and stuff. He didn't realize until all six places were set that Cas didn't eat. Oh well. Maybe tonight he could convince Cas to try something other than greasy cheeseburgers, which was the only human food he'd tried.

"Hello, Dean," came said voice behind him. The angel touched Dean's back lightly and reached out to straighten a spoon that had gone crooked. Dean smiled.

"Hey, Cas." Dean finished setting the last glass down and turned to face Cas, leaning against a chair. He gestured to the rest of the people in the kitchen. "What do you think of the domestic life?"

Cas lifted one corner of his mouth in the slightest of smirks. "It fascinates me that you spend so much time on something as simple as one meal."

"You just wait until you taste it," Ellen teased, smacking Cas with a dishtowel. Dean couldn't help but chuckle at the surprised look on Castiel's face. "Come on, everyone, time to eat!" Ellen called out. "Bobby! Supper!" The old man came wheeling through the door in his chair, pretending to look grumpy, but Dean knew he could not be more pleased than he was at the moment.

"What are you feeding us, Ellen?" Bobby asked gruffly, pushing himself up to the head of the table.

She smiled and kissed his forehead. "Chicken and rice soup, your old favorite. The kids here helped me make it." Sam placed a bowl of the steaming broth in front of Bobby, who thanked him and tried to pick up his spoon before Ellen smacked his hand, telling him to wait for everyone else. Cas cleared his throat.

"Um, also, there is some bread. Don't forget," Cas told them quietly. Jo giggled and brought the bread over to the table.

"Yes, there is some wonderfully well-sliced bread, thanks to Castiel." Dean had to smile at how proud Cas looked.

"Alright, y'all," Ellen chided, taking her seat at the other end of the table. "Dig in."

Everyone was eating, laughing, talking and just being a family. With the help of Jo and Sammy, Dean finally convinced Cas to try just a little bite of the food, which he then decided he loved and helped himself to two bowls. For once, they were all just happy and content. A family.

After dinner was finished and the dishes done with everyone's help, Dean hung back in the kitchen, drinking a beer and listening to the chitchat from the living room. Cas stood next to him. "Thank you, Dean."

Dean swallowed, not meeting the angel's gaze. "For what?"

"For making me stay. For showing me what it feels like to have a real family." Dean glanced over when he said this. Cas sighed heavily. "I can assure you that the heavenly family dynamic is… quite different than this. So thank you. I quite enjoyed myself tonight."

"Yeah, Cas," Dean replied with the tiniest of smiles. "Of course. That's what family is for, right?" Cas' stare was intense, and Dean would have felt uncomfortable had he not been so attracted to the angel in that moment. Suddenly, everything went a bit hazy. His eyes flickered down to Dean's lips, only for a millisecond, but Dean didn't miss it, and he started to lean in. He had his hand on Cas' cheek, rough stubble under his palm, he could feel Cas' breath, he could hear the angel's grace humming somewhere deep in his chest, he was almost there…

"Dean. Dean!"

Something soft but solid enough to jolt him awake hit him in the side. Dean sat up with a violent start. His eyes opened on Sam sitting in the bed opposite him in the motel, smirking and holding a pillow. "Geez, Dean, what were you dreaming about? It took me forever to get you up." Dean rubbed his eyes.

That's right. It was a dream. Ellen and Jo were dead, which was his fault, and Bobby was gone, too. Castiel was lost somewhere in the depths of Purgatory. There was no such thing as nice, cordial family dinners, because other than Sam, everyone he considered family was dead.

Dean climbed out of his tangled sheets, and, with the bitter shades of a dream still behind his eyelids every time he blinked, started his day.


	10. Day Ten

_Day Ten - with Animal Ears_

It was Christmas at the Singer household. The boys had decided to take a bit of a sabbatical from working and spend the holiday at Bobby's. They were going traditional this year. Sam and Dean had gone out yesterday and cut down a big tree, drug it inside and propped it up in the living room. Of course, Bobby had grumbled at them about getting pine needles all over his floor, but Dean didn't miss the smile on the old man's face when he thought they weren't looking. They had gone down in the basement and pulled out a number of old dusty boxes that held all sorts of decorations, so they were busy stringing up lights, garland, tinsel, hanging goofy little ornaments on the tree. They had eggnog, gingersnap cookies that Sam had baked, old Christmas music… hell, it was their first real Christmas ever.

Dean was unpacking a box full of random things - stockings and lighted garland and such - when he heard the flapping of wings behind him. "Hello, De-"

"Hey, Cas." He cut the angle off before he could finish his usual greeting. Dean pulled on a polyester Santa hat and turned around to greet Cas with a goofy grin. "Merry Christmas!"

Cas cocked his head, fixing Dean with a strange look. "Yes, Merry Christmas, Dean." He glanced around the room, his eyes finding the other two decorating the tree. "Sam, Bobby. Merry Christmas." They, too, greeted him with smiles and holiday cheer (as much as Bobby could muster up, at least).

"Want some eggnog?" Dean asked. "It's good," he told Cas, drawing out the 'o' and waving a small glass in front of his face. Cas accepted cautiously, sipping at it with care and grimacing as he set the glass down. "Sorry," Dean laughed. "I must've gone a little too strong on the rum."

Cas shook his head, smiling. "Nope, it's good."

A couple of drinks later, they were all sitting around the television happily, watching some animated Christmas movie. Dean had gone to throw some boxes back down in the basement to rid the room of the clutter, so he had missed the beginning of the movie, and when he walked in he was incredibly confused. There was some sort of ridiculous snow monster and a flaming homo elf who wouldn't stop whining about wanting to be a dentist. "What the hell is this? It looks stupid," he said, plopping down on the couch.

"Hey, man! Don't diss Rudolph," Sam rebuked, and Dean laughed, throwing his arm around Cas' shoulder. The angel relaxed into Dean's side, laying his head on Dean's shoulder.

It actually turned out to be a pretty good movie, Dean admitted to himself. By the end, he and Cas and Sam were trying to listen over the sounds of Bobby's snoring from where he sat in his armchair. When the main screen came back up, playing the theme song quietly, Sam left the room to grab some food for everyone. Dean glanced over at Bobby, who was out cold. He chuckled, standing and pulling Cas with him over to the tree. Dean wrapped his arms around Castiel's waist, holding him close to his chest. "What do you think?" he asked Cas, motioning towards the tree. "Not bad, huh?" Cas nodded. They shared a laugh when Cas saw the little angel statue that sat atop the tree, and noticed that Dean had decorated it with a miniature trench coat and blue tie. ("It's you, Cas!")

"Dean?" Cas said, turning around and putting his hands on Dean's chest.

He pressed his forehead to Cas'. "Yeah?"

There was a pause, and then, "You still have your Santa hat on."

Dean wasn't expecting that. But he reached up, and yes, there it was. He was surprised that it hadn't been itching. He laughed, but he didn't pull it off. Instead, he kissed Cas on the forehead and grabbed a pair of light-up reindeer antlers from under the tree and put them on the angel. "There," he said. "Now you're a reindeer." Castiel grinned.

"Well, Dean," he said, removing his coat and draping over the arm of the couch. He came back, leaning up to whisper in Dean's ear. "If I'm your reindeer, maybe you can try riding me tonight." He smirked at Dean's flabbergasted expression and walked off into the kitchen, and Dean could have sworn he was wiggling his ass on purpose. He watched as the angel retreated, the antlers still perched on top of his head, lights flashing.

"Merry Christmas to me."


	11. Day Eleven

_Day Eleven - Wearing Kigurumis_

There was a knock on the door of the motel. This usually either meant housekeeping, or something really, really bad. But there was no maid calling for them to let her in to clean the motel room, and when Dean looked out the peephole, there was no one to be seen. Carefully, he pulled out the handgun that he kept in his jacket, making sure it was loaded and ready, and then opened the door a crack. Keeping the gun in front of him, he looked around. No one. Seriously? What the hell, he thought. He put the safety back on and tucked the gun into the back of his pants. And then he spotted it. Sitting on the doormat was a package. He bent down to pick it up carefully, being cautious even though he wanted to tear it open and see what was inside. Curiosity often got the best of him. Shutting the door behind him, he retreated into the room,flipping the package over until he found the little folded note taped to it.

As he unfolded it, he saw a neat scrawl in blue pen. It read: "Sorry that it's a few days late, I've been busy avoiding my duties upstairs. I saw these while I was visiting Japan and thought they'd suit you. Merry Christmas, dumbasses. Love, Gabe." Dean sighed and called for Cas.

The angel stepped out of the bathroom, a white towel wrapped around his waist and a toothbrush in his mouth. Cas had taken to a couple routine human things now that he was staying with Dean more often (and Sam had taken to getting a separate room), so Dean now carried with him an extra toothbrush, razor, and a bigger bottle of shampoo. "What is it?" he asked, rinsing out his mouth and watching as Dean tore the tape from the brown box.

"Your brother paid us a visit, it seems," Dean told him. He handed Cas the note, which the angel studied, looking confused.

"Christmas?" Cas asked. "Christmas was months ago, Dean! It's April!"

Dean rubbed his forehead when he saw what was inside the package. "Yeah, Cas, he was joking. Look." Inside the box were two brightly colored, fuzzy pieces of fabric.

"What are they?"

"Kigurumis," Dean replied, reading from the product description sheet. The rest of the words were in what he assumed to be Japanese. "What the hell does that even mean?" He lifted one of them from the box. "Oh god…"

It wasn't just fabric, it was a suit. A big, fluffy, pink bunny costume. It had a note pinned to it with Dean's name. Cas took the other one, with 'Castiel' pinned on the front, which bore the resemblance of a large black cat. Dean went back to studying his… whatever it was. It had floppy ears and a place for someone's head, and a bunny face on the hood. "What the f-"

"Dean, look! It fits." Dean looked up, and of fucking course, Cas had put his cat costume on. He did look kind of cute, and if he was any animal in the world, it would be a cat, but the thing was just stupid. "It's very comfortable and warm. I like it."

Dean sniggered. "Cas, you look ridiculous."

"I like it. Dean, put yours on, too," Cas said, motioning at the thing Dean was holding. Was he serious? He was totally serious.

"Cas, hell no. I'm not… ugh! Don't give me that look!" Cas may have been a cat, but he had puppy dog eyes to rival even Sammy's. Cas batted his lashes (who taught him to do that?) and Dean sighed. He couldn't say no to his angel. Fuck. He slid his legs into the suit and pulled the hood up over his head. "There. Happy?"

There was a flapping of wings behind him, and then, "Well, well, well. I wondered how long it would take him to get you to put it on." Dean turned around to see Gabriel striding toward him, a smug grin on his face. "Happy Birthday! Or was it Kwanzaa? Either way, hope you like the gift. I think it suits you, Dean! Very Christmas Story-esque."

"Gabriel, you son-of-a-bitch," Dean growled. He started to struggle out of the bunny costume.

"Not very threatening when you're dressed like a big pink bunny rabbit," Gabe replied in a teasing, babyish voice.

Dean was going to punch him in the throat. Finally he got his legs out of the damn thing. "Suck my dick."

"Oh, that's dear little Castiel's job, now, isn't it?" Gabe winked and grinned at Dean, strolling around the room with his hands in his pockets. "Speaking of Cas, hey, bro!" He clapped Cas on his black fur-clad shoulder. "Looking good, kitty cat. How's it going, roaming this God-forsaken land with your human fuck buddy?" Cas cocked his head sideways, but didn't reply. "Anyway, must get back to no work, just thought I'd drop by, check in, you know." Dean just stared angrily, and Cas said nothing, as always. "Well. I can tell when I'm not welcome. He's PMSing, it seems, Cas, might want to steer clear for… oh, five to seven days. Toodle-loo, boys." And with that, Gabriel was gone.

"Cas," Dean said in the most raspiest of raspy voices.

"Yes, Dean?"

There was a pause. "Your brother," Dean continued, "is the biggest asshole I have ever met."

"Dean."

He turned around to look at Cas, still looking like an incredibly large cat. "Yeah?"

"You must admit, they're comfortable."


	12. Day Twelve

_Day Twelve - Making Out_

It's a day like any other. The boys are at Bobby's, working a job that Sheriff Mills had called them in on. Castiel is with them, and has been sitting in front of the television all day, watching old soaps on the few channels that Bobby recieved, while Dean sits at the table with a very large cup of coffee and tries to keep himself focused on the large, dusty books that Bobby and Sam have left him to search through. Dean highly suspects that Cas's sudden interest in television is a product of him telling the angel to act more human. So he guesses that this is Cas's 'research.' Regardless, Dean would appreciate the help with these books. He doesn't understand half of the words they use most of the time. But whatever. At least Cas is here now, instead of off somewhere in the realms of fuck-knows-where. The company, however annoying at times, is nice.

"Dean?" the gravelly voice asks from the direction of the couch. He looks up from some leather-bound piece of crap to see that Cas has muted the television and is looking up at Dean.

Dean marks his place and shuts the book, a cloud of dust rising from the old pages. He rubs his face in his hands. "Yeah?" he replies.

"Why do humans like to kiss each other?"

Dean is just about to toss out a smart-ass remark, but then he thinks about what Cas has just asked, and instead he just says "…what?"

Cas actually blushes, turning his gaze away from Dean and towards the floor. "I'm just curious. It seems like such an odd way of showing affection. I can understand sex, I can see how that would be… enjoyable, but it is also a necessary means of human survival and reproduction. Kissing is not. But it seems to be very important to humans. I just want to know why that is."

Dean sighs. "Cas, you've been watching too many crappy TV shows." But Cas is still fixing him with that curious puppy look, and Dean realizes he was totally serious in asking about this. Like, he really wants to know. "Shit, I don't know. It is enjoyable, I'll tell you that. Um, well I think it has to do with something scientific, like hormones or something, I remember talking about it in biology class in middle school." Cas is nodding his head, seeming to follow. "I guess it all comes down to how it feels. It feels good, you know? It's just something that you do because you want to, not because it's necessary. You get me?"

Cas is still looking a tiny bit confused, and Dean recognizes the familiar look that Cas wears often, with his eyebrows furrowed and a tiny little crease between them. "Yes, I think I understand. I just cannot empathize. I'm not sure I know what that feels like." There is a long pause, in which Cas stares at the ground, pondering, and Dean sits uncomfortably, waiting for the angel to dismiss him from this awkward conversation.

"Dean?"

Fuck, really? Dean groans internally. "Yes, Cas?"

This pause is even longer. Dean is about to say something when Cas starts another sentence. "I want to know what it's like."

"What, kissing?" Dean asks. Cas nods again. Not what Dean was expecting, but he guesses that it's probably normal. Cas spends way more time around humans than any of his brothers and sisters did, so Dean figures at some point Cas would start getting more and more curious about human things. "Okay," he muses. "Well, that's fine, we just gotta find someone for you to kiss. Shouldn't be too hard, yeah? You're a good looking guy." Castiel is blushing again, but Dean tries to ignore that and just assume the angel is embarrassed about this entire conversation. Hell, Dean would be if he were in Castiel's place.

But, alas, no. It turns out Cas is blushing for another reason. "Dean, I… I want it to be you."

_Oh. Well_, Dean thinks. He has always considered himself attractive, but the fact that his angel buddy wants to make out with him kind of catches Dean off guard. He tries to play it off sarcastically, like he usually does. "Hey, man, I'm supportive, but I don't swing that way." It's only when Cas tilts his head, confused by Dean's joke, that he realizes humor isn't going to work this time. He sighs again. "Seriously? Cas, I'm flattered, really, but why me? There's loads of women out there that would love to kiss you. Come on, I'll take you out for drinks tonight and we'll find some nice-looking lady who can take care of-"

"I want it to be you, Dean," Cas repeats firmly. "I want it to be with someone I trust. Very few people fit that description, and I'd be happy to ask Sam if you are unwilling, but he and I do not share the same bond that I have with you. I'd much rather it was you." He pauses, trying to read Dean's face for a reaction. "Just one kiss. That's all, I just want to know what it feels like. You don't have to worry about anyone else finding out, I won't speak of it again. Please?" _Well_, Dean contemplates, _that doesn't sound awful_. Really, it's just a kiss. Nothing important. Right?

So he agrees. "Yeah, okay," he says, moving over to sit next to Cas on the couch. "One kiss, no strings attached, no one finds out. We forget that it happened as soon as it's over, yeah?" Cas gives his silent agreement. "Okay." Dean braces himself. It's clear that Castiel isn't going to be making a move here, so it's up to him to decide how this was going to go. He turns so that he is sitting facing Cas. The angel has his shoulders hunched over slightly, so Dean seems to tower over him. "Ready?" Dean asks. Cas mumbles a quick "yes," but Dean can feel the tension rolling off of Cas in waves. So he does something unexpected.

Dean puts his hand under Castiel's chin, gently lifting his head up so that his bright blue eyes meet Dean's. "Hey." Dean holds the angel's gaze, but drops his hand down to squeeze Cas's knee. His eyes widen, but whether it's surprise or fear or something else, Dean doesn't know. He keeps talking, regardless. "Cas. It's me. You trust me, remember? It's fine. You don't need to be all worried. I'm not going to hurt you." Dean laughs softly at the expression on Cas's face. The scared, tense look is starting to melt away slightly. "And besides, kissing is about being comfortable. It's about feeling good, remember? It won't feel good if you're freaking out about it. So you have to relax. Let me do all the work. Okay?"

"Okay," Cas says, his voice wavering only slightly. There is a hint of a smile on his lips now, and Dean studies it carefully. Wow. Now that he thinks about it, he kind of almost wants to kiss Cas. He has nice lips, although they are a little chapped, and overall he is rather attractive, you know, if Dean were into guys. And besides, it's Cas. Dean has kissed people who had meant a lot less to him than Cas. Actually, that could cause problems. What if this made everything about their friendship awkward? Cas isn't just some girl at a bar that he can hook up with and then never see again. But Dean watches as the angel's tongue darts out to wet his lips, and all of the sudden he is incredibly overwhelmed. Okay. This definitely will not be that bad.

"I'm going to kiss you now, okay?" Dean's voice starts out at normal volume, but by the end of his sentence he's whispering. He's leaned in, and there's mere inches between his face and Castiel's. His hand is still resting on Cas's leg.

"Okay," Cas whispers in reply, looking up at Dean with his imploring eyes.

Dean feels Cas's body tense when he leans in closer, but he's not aiming for his mouth just yet. His lips end up near Castiel's ear, with something like a smirk forming on them. "You know, usually when humans kiss each other, they close their eyes." Cas obeys immediately, shutting his eyes, and Dean smiles at just how vulnerable his angel looks in that moment. It's adorable, actually. Dean moves back now, just watching for a moment before remembering that he's supposed to be kissing Cas. Whoops. So without further ado, he moves closer, pausing only slightly right as Cas's nose goes blurry in his vision because he's _right there…_

His eyelids finally flutter shut as his lips brush gently, experimentally against Cas's, then pressing harder, Cas's top lip caught between Dean's own. It's so unlike most of the kisses Dean has had in his life. It's soft, reluctant, pure, and so open. He can feel Cas giving up himself to Dean completely, trusting Dean to handle him carefully. And _oh. _There is something there that was so unexpected. Dean's never guided someone like this before, and it feels almost too good. He is baring his soul for Cas without ever meaning to. One of them lets out a sigh that gets caught in between their lips.

The kiss ends all too soon, but Dean opens his eyes, pulling back to watch how Cas reacts. The angel has his hands clasped together in his lap, next to where Dean has his hand on Cas's knee. Castiel's fingers clench and unclench, fiddling with each other, as he opens his eyes and bites his bottom lip. And holy hell, that's hot. Dean isn't sure what had happened, but all he knows is that he wants more. And Cas isn't going to say no.

Dean's hand comes up to caress Cas's cheek as he leans back in. He's not usually one for moves straight out of a chick flick, but this doesn't feel cheesy or dumb. There's stubble rubbing against Dean's hands, a drastic contrast from the surprisingly smooth lips that are pressed to his. Cas seems to be okay with the way their lips are moving together now, he's gaining confidence by the minute, and there are hands grabbing at Dean's sides. Carefully, still taking it slow, Dean licks along Cas's bottom lip, asking for entrance, which the angel grants willingly, They're closer now, in every way possible: Dean is climbing over Cas, laying him down on the couch and hovering over him, tongues sliding wetly together in the shared space of their mouths. Cas is warm, but not only physically. Dean can feel the angel prodding at his mind, wanting to be let in, to be as close as he can be, to feel everything Dean's human hormones make him feel. Cas's hands are everywhere, clutching at Dean's hips, wrapped around his biceps, and then one in the small of his back and the other on his neck, pulling him close, fingers tangled in the short hairs at the nape of his neck. It's faster, more heated, but beautifully intimate. Dean never wants to kiss another person in his entire life when he could be kissing Cas. The moans and whimpers coming from deep in the angel's throat are driving Dean mad.

They're breathing heavily when Dean pulls his mouth away for air, with their noses bumping together. "Wow," Dean exhales, chuckling to himself.

"I think I get it now," Cas growls, his voice rough and eyes hooded with desire, and Dean's blood boils in his veins. How did he never notice how _hot _Cas is? "I get why humans like kissing." Dean laughs, pressing his forehead against Cas's. He smiles when Cas's eyelashes flutter slightly at the touch.

"Again?" Dean asks quietly.

Cas grins. "Again."


	13. Day Thirteen

_Day Thirteen - Eating Ice Cream_

"Come on, you butt," Dean laughed, a grin spreading widely across his lips. "Humor me."

Dean and Cas were at an ice cream shop. Of course, Cas was pulling his whole _angels don't need human food_ spiel, but this was some fucking good ice cream and Dean would be damned if he didn't convince Cas to try some. He was holding out his bowl right in front of Cas's nose, waving it around from side to side. "Dude, this is literally the most amazing ice cream I have ever had in my entire life. Try it. Now."

"Dean, I don't-"

"I know you don't _need_ to, Cas, that's not the point! It's fucking delicious, you're going to want to eat it. One bite is not going to kill you. Please?" Dean dragged out the vowel as long as he could. He could do this; Dean was way more stubborn than Cas could ever hope to be.

This particular ice cream shop was apparently the place to be in the middle of the summer. The place was packed full of tiny kids dragging frazzled mothers though the line, rowdy groups of teenagers at the big tables, college-aged couples in the window seats drinking the same milkshakes through two straws. The line at the counter was at least twenty people long. It was bright and clean and smelled nice, and even though the colors and decorations were a little bit girly, Dean liked it. Well, it helped that the ice cream was friggin' awesome. Dean had ordered three scoops: black coffee (fairly simple but tasty), some sort of chocolate with a hint of cayenne pepper (holy shit), and sweet potato with toasted marshmallows (it sounded weird but HOLY SHIT). If he wasn't so determined to finally get Cas to try some kind of food, he would have eaten it all by himself.

"Caaaas," he pleaded, moving the spoon slowly towards the angel's mouth. "Eaaaaat the ice creaaaaaam."

Said angel swatted his hand lightly. "No."

"But Cas!" Dean pouted.

"No."

"Fine!" Time to pull out the big guns. Begging wasn't going to work, but threatening might. "I'm not going to kiss you for a week unless you have a bite of this ice cream right the fuck now." Dean grinned at Cas's look of indignation.

Cas furrowed his eyebrows. "You couldn't last a week," he said.

Dean just smiled. "Wanna bet?" He was absolutely positive he couldn't last the week, but he was also positive that Cas didn't know that for sure and certainly was not willing to take that risk.

Finally, after a few seconds of anticipation, Cas sighed. "Fine." Dean whooped in triumph as Cas took the spoon from his hand and took just a tiny bit of the sweet potato ice cream. "Just one bite." Dean couldn't wait to see the reaction when Cas tasted it. "Stop watching me, Dean, you're making this uncomfortable."

"Oh, whatever, just eat it already!" Cas smiled and brought the spoon to his mouth. Oh, he was dragging this out on purpose. After what seemed like forever, Cas's lips closed around the spoon, and he pondered the taste for a moment before his eyes grew wide. There it was. Dean laughed as Cas swallowed and gaped down at the bowl on the table.

"Oh my goodness…" he said in awe. He took another bite, and this time the moan that escaped his mouth was absolutely scandalous. "That's… that's incredible!"

"I told you so!" Dean teased. "Here, keep that, I'll go get another spoon." He stood, squeezing past a young boy tugging his sister over to look in the big glass cases of ice cream to grab one of the pink plastic utensils from the counter. When he got back, Cas had gone through most of the coffee scoop by himself. "Glad you tried it?"

The angel nodded, and Dean definitely didn't miss it when his tongue swooped out to lick of a bit of melted ice cream from his bottom lip. Hell, Dean couldn't have withheld kisses from Cas even if he had wanted to. He left it to Cas to finish off that flavor and instead went for the chocolate one. As he scooped the bite into his mouth, Cas sighed contentedly. "Wow, that was good. I like the coffee flavored one. The chocolate was good, too."

Dean nodded in agreement. "You know what's better than either of those?" Cas shrugged.

"Mocha."

It took Cas a second, but then he understood when Dean leaned across the table with his lips puckered. He chuckled and put a finger up to stop Dean. "Not here. We can do more of that when we get back to the motel." Dean waggled his eyebrows and stood up, tossing the empty cup in the trash before grabbing Cas's hand.

"Well then, let's get back to the motel," he said, intertwining their fingers and moving towards the door with purpose.

Cas smiled. "Yes, let's."


	14. Day Fourteen

_Day Fourteen - Genderswap_

There's a new kid at school.

Well, two, to be exact. But that's not what matters to Cassie Novak.

Deanna Winchester and her younger brother, Sam, enrolled in Rochester High School two days ago, in the middle of first semester. Cassie has asked around (she has quite the network built up), but so far no one's been able to tell her who they are or where they came from. Even her best friend Anna, who's student body president, has no idea what their story is. So Cassie is determined to find out herself.

Cassie's got two classes with this new girl, US History and AP Chemistry. Her chem teacher actually put Deanna next to Cas on her first day, which would work to Cassie's advantage. She's going to figure this new girl out. See, Cassie's the school's token gay. Really, she's classified herself as pansexual, but everyone sees that as only one thing: Cassie wants the V. As far as that goes, though, people have been really accepting of her. There was slight controversy when she officially came out her sophomore year, but otherwise, she's been left alone. Some people say that she's a slut, or she's easy, or whatever, but she doesn't really care. Truth is, she's never slept with anyone, dick and vagina alike. Not saying that she doesn't want to, of course, but she just hasn't really found the right person yet. And yeah, that's sappy, but that's how she feels about it.

The reason Cassie is interested in Deanna Winchester is not just the fact that she happens to be smokin' hot. Honestly, she seems really interesting. She hasn't spoken much, mostly keeping to herself, and talking only with her brother, who's a freshman. The only time Cassie's ever actually heard her voice was when she made a snarky (and hilarious) comment to answer a question during their history lesson yesterday. But Cas has been… observing. When no one's watching, Deanna actually looks kind of sad. Like there's something weighing her down that no one else knows. Cassie is intrigued to say the least. Also, standing at five foot nine, with her slim-figured athlete's build and tanned skin, dirty blonde hair tied up in a messy ponytail, and gorgeous green eyes, she's easily one of the most attractive people Cassie's ever laid eyes on. So, you know. There's that.

It's almost the end of the day, and Cassie's in the bathroom touching up her makeup before she goes to Chem. She's not trying too hard to impress the new girl, but she does want to make sure she looks okay, you know. Checking over her reflection in the mirror, she smiles. Cassie has never been too boastful about her appearance, but she is rather pretty. She's been graced with large blue eyes, which no one else in her family have. Her dark hair is exceptional today, falling around her face and framing it in smooth waves. She finishes a last coat of mascara as she hears the warning sound over the loudspeaker, giving her a minute to get to class. She packs her bag quickly and gives herself one last confident smile in the mirror before she hustles down the hall and down a staircase, sliding into her desk right as the bell rings and chemistry class begins.

But Deanna's not there. Their table is empty, and as she glances around the classroom, the blonde girl is nowhere to be found. Huh. That's weird. She was there during history class that morning. She takes out her notebook and flips to a blank page, readying herself to copy notes, finding, oddly enough, that she feels incredibly disappointed.

Not for long, though. Ten minutes later, Deanna slides in the door, her head down as she drops her backpack to the floor and perches on the lab chair to the right of Cas. The teacher shoots her a condescending look, as if to say that he's only letting this one go because she's new, but not to let it happen again, and Deanna nods slightly in response, looking flustered and guilty and tired and angry and embarrassed all at once. But that's all Cassie gets to see of her, as she then starts copying the notes from the board, a curtain of blonde hair blocking Cassie's view of her face. They work in silence for a few minutes until Mr. Redmond starts them on a lab, and Cas sees this as her chance to move in on the new girl.

She goes to grab the equipment they need, sliding a pair of safety glasses over the bridge of her nose and handing another to Deanna. She mumbles a quiet thanks, but doesn't make eye contact. Wow. This girl really doesn't want to talk. Huh. Cassie's never been much for conversation, either, preferring to keep her opinions and such to herself, which means that she isn't too adept at the dynamics of social interaction outside of class discussions. But she just feels like Deanna's different, somehow.

Almost the entire lab passes without them speaking much, the few words they share being short observations and hums of agreement about the chemicals in front of them. It's a saturation lab; they're using hypo crystals and water in three test tubes to test how saturated the water gets. It's simple, especially for AP, but Deanna's watching the beakers intently and looking constantly confused, a little crease between her eyebrows as she writes her notes. From time to time she'll bite her lip and tap her pen on the edge of the table as she thinks. It's kind of cute, Cas thinks. Anyway, Cassie can't figure out where to start talking. Anything she can think of to possibly open up a conversation, she dismisses as too awkward or insensitive or just plain stupid. Finally, with less than ten minutes left in the period, she settles for the least stupid thing she can think of.

"So," she starts, wiping out a test tube with a paper towel. She glances up to see Deanna's reaction, if she should continue. Deanna gives her a skeptical look, but doesn't give any indication that Cassie should stop there. So she doesn't. "Deanna, right?" The blonde girl nods, her head down. "Sorry I haven't introduced myself yet. I'm Cassie, Cassie Novak." She holds out her hand, and Deanna takes hold of it tentatively, but her grip is strong as she shakes it. "How do you like the school so far?" It's probably the last thing Deanna wants to talk about, but it's all she has to go on.

Deanna shrugs her shoulders. The movement is so small it's almost imperceptible, but Cassie's paying attention. "It's fine. Big, though. Bigger than most of the schools that I've been at," she says. It's the most Cassie has heard her speak over the past few days.

"Yeah, it's kind of ridiculous how confusing the hallways are. Like a maze. It took me almost a whole year to stop getting lost." Cassie laughs nervously, but Deanna doesn't even crack a smile. So she's going to be tough. Okay. Cas moves on to something else. "You've been at a lot of different schools?" she asks.

There's a flash of something quick in Deanna's green eyes, but Cassie can't tell what it is. She nods again. "This is the fourth this semester," she says, and there's a hint of resentment in her voice. She looks sad again as she laughs bitterly. "But I'm used to it. My family moves around a lot." A number of possibilities wiggle their way into Cas's mind. Military, perhaps? Now wasn't the time to ask, but she'd keep in mind for later; she's curious. She can tell it'll be tough to get Deanna to want to talk about it.

"Hey," Cassie says, hoisting her bag onto her shoulder. Deanna looks up again. "How about lunch tomorrow? I'll meet you after history? We can talk some more and maybe I can show you around a bit, you know, if you'd like." It's a brave move for Cassie. But to her surprise, there's a hint of a smile on Deanna's normally stoic face.

"Yeah. Yeah, okay, I'd like that." The final bell rings, and they are surrounded by students rushing to get out of school for the day, but Deanna stands up slowly, slinging her backpack on and nudging the stool forward with one of her military boots. "I'll see you then." She raises the corner of her mouth again one last time before turning and walking off, and Cassie loses sight of her in the crowd of people.

'Nice to meet you!" she calls, but Deanna's gone. Even so, Cassie smiles. It's a small victory for her, and she's still grinning to herself as she waves to the teacher and walks out to her car to meet Anna for a ride home.

The next day after their history class, they walk to the cafeteria together, making fun of their boring teacher, Ms. Sullivan. Cassie loves how naturally funny and sarcastic Deanna is. They get their food and end up sitting together on the floor near Cassie's locker, their trays in front of them and facing each other, just talking. Deanna talks about her brother Sam, and Cas catches hints of her smile again as she thumbs the pendant that hangs around her neck. In return, Cassie tells Deanna about her brothers: Gabriel, who's a junior and widely known as the school's class clown, Balthazar, a year her senior but held back, so that they're in the same grade, and Michael, the eldest, off getting his MBA at Harvard. Cassie thinks about it for a second, and then tells the other girl that she'll have to come over and meet her family sometimes, hoping that she hasn't crossed any lines, but she's rewarded when Deanna offers another small smile and says that yes, she will. Nearing the end of lunch, Deanna reveals that her family travels because of her father's job, not specifying, just making clear that she and her brother are often left on their own while their father works full-time. Cas gets the idea that Deanna's mother is no longer in the picture, but it's definitely too soon to start asking questions like that. She ends up walking Deanna to her next class, which is completely across the school from her own and will make her late, but she doesn't care. They reach the door of the Algebra classroom, and Deanna turns, one hand on the strap of her backpack and the other tucked into her back pocket, looking bashful.

"Hey, Cassie?" she says. "Thanks." Cassie's about to ask what for when the new girl continues. "I mean, usually I don't last long enough in one place for many people to take notice of me. So thanks. You were the first person here to talk to me. That was really nice of you." Cas shrugs it off casually, but inside she's bursting.

"No problem. You're too cool not to take notice of." That earns her a smile. "See you in chem?"

Deanna nods, and heads off into class. The bell's about to ring, so Cassie hurries off, speed walking to the east wing, but the whole way, she's trying to contain herself and fight the blush that's creeping up her cheeks and turning her ears red. This is going much, much better than she expected.

It's a lecture in chemistry today, so the two girls spend the period passing a notebook between them, Cassie trying to stay composed and not laugh out loud at Deanna's jokes and Deanna enjoying Cassie's doodles and little drawings in the margins. It's one of the first times this year that Cassie has not paid attention to the lesson in the slightest, but she couldn't care less. She's too busy studying the gorgeous little smirk on Deanna's face as she steals the notebook back and scribbles something down. God, she's so pretty.

The bell rings, and the girls both stand to pack up, Cassie taking her notebook back and laughing at the last thing Deanna wrote. Together, they walk down the hall, stopping at Cassie's locker. Deanna leans against the wall as Cassie exchanges books from her bag, trying to remember what her English homework was. Deanna tucks her bangs back behind her ear as Cassie shuts the locker. "That was fun. See you tomorrow, Cas." That's the first time she's called Cassie by her nickname, and wow, it sounds nice coming from her mouth. She turns and starts to leave, when Cassie calls out.

"Wait!" Deanna turns back around, that same small smile gracing her lips. "Any chance... you'd want to come over to my place tonight? I'm sure my parents would love to meet you and have you stay for dinner, if you want."

Any hint of a smile leaves Deanna's face, and Cassie's heart drops. "I promised I'd take care of my brother. I can't really leave him. I..." She paused, looking conflicted, halfway between an apology and anger. "I have to go. See you tomorrow, Cassie." Deanna turns and stalks away, blonde ponytail swishing behind her as she turns the corner and is gone.

Cas slumps against the locker. Shit. She's not quite sure what she did to upset the girl, but this is definitely a step in the wrong direction in her new friendship with Deanna. She doesn't even notice that Anna's standing behind her until her friend's hand is resting on her shoulder. Cassie jumps. "Jesus, Anna! A warning would be nice!"

The red-head girl chuckles. "Sorry. Making friends with the new girl?" She motions in the direction that Deanna had just left. Cassie sighs.

"Trying," is all that she says.

She sees Deanna one more time that day, right as Anna's pulling out of the parking lot. Deanna's walking with the person Cas assumes is her younger brother Sam, and Cassie watches as she climbs into the driver's seat of an old, classic black Chevy. Cassie frowns. This Winchester girl is an enigma wrapped in a mystery wrapped in a friggin' taco. It's almost too good to be true.

And damn it, Cassie has been needing a good mystery.


	15. Day Fifteen

_Day Fifteen - In A Different Clothing Style_

Dean was fine when it was just the vest, or the poofy shirt. But tights? That was too much.

Castiel and Dean were in Silverton, Oregon, at none other than the Canterbury Renaissance Faire. There had been a weird string of murders over the past week that the fair had been running, and they seemed weird enough for the two of them to investigate. But Dean had found out that there were already a pair of FBI agents in town, and now that Bobby was gone, Dean tried to avoid running into the actual feds at all costs. So, that disguise was out. And that was when Cas had suggested going very, very undercover... in full Renaissance costume. Dean would have objected if it weren't the only other plausible option. So they had gone out to the nearest costume store and scrounged together an ensemble for each of them.

Currently, they were in the motel, getting dressed for their first day on the job. Dean bitterly pulled on the brown pair of tights (breeches, Cas reminded him whenever he complained) and frowned, trying to pull down his shirt to cover the lovely little bulge in the front of his pants. This was the farthest thing from okay.

He was sitting on the bed lacing up his boots when Cas emerged from the bathroom. He had to stifle a laugh. If he looked silly, then Cas looked absolutely fucking ridiculous. He wore a black and gold tunic with a dragon on the front and a cape-like thing that was draped over his shoulders and fell to the back of his knees. There was a belt around his waist, his black pants were tucked into boots, and the outfit was completed with the sword in his hand. Cas, supposedly, was a knight. Well, at least it made Dean feel better about his costume.

Dean stood, walking around Cas in a circle, observing, and then Cas made him stop so he could see Dean. He was dressed a little more realistically, and definitely simpler, in a white cotton shirt with puffy sleeves and an olive green vest over that. There was a slit at the top of the shirt, leaving a good amount of his chest showing, which he didn't mind all too much. Instead of a sword, Dean had opted for a bow and a quiver of arrows that rested over his shoulder on a black leather strap. Besides the too-tight pants, Dean's costume wasn't actually too bad. At least, it wouldn't be, in a place full of people dressed exactly the same.

"Cool," Dean said, once Cas had given an approving smile. "Let's go." He started going for the door when Cas grabbed his arm.

"Wait, Dean! You forgot your hat!"

Dean groaned and turned around, drawing his jaw tight as Cas placed the floppy black hat, complete with a giant feather, on top of Dean's head. He was hoping that he could "forget" it in the motel. Damn.

He did laugh, though, when they stepped outside and the sun was shining, not a cloud in the sky. Cas was going to bake in that black thing. Already the angel was tugging at the collar of his tunic. As they climbed into the Impala and Dean took Cas's hand in his over the gear shift, Dean smiled.

He looked like an idiot, there was no denying that. But at least he could look like an idiot with the guy that he loved.


	16. Day Sixteen

_Day Sixteen - During their Morning Routines_

Dean isn't usually a morning person.

Like every other person on the planet, Dean likes to sleep. When he can, he stays in bed until at least 11 in the morning. Of course, living with Sam and having the job he had often required late nights of driving and early mornings posing as a fed, which left little room for sleep. It was usually a luxury, sleeping in, and when Dean had to wake up early, he got kind of grumpy, which was not fun for anyone around him.

But ever since Cas started staying, mornings have gotten a lot easier.

When they're not working, they'll lay in bed together for hours, and some mornings, Dean will wake up early just to watch Cas sleep. He loves the way it feels when his eyelids first open, and in the dim light that manages to sneak past the curtains, he sees Castiel there next to him, curled up against his chest. It always makes his breath catch in his throat, how utterly beautiful the sight is. Dean sometimes thinks that no matter how many mornings he wakes up like this, it will never get old. And then when Cas finally wakes, they'll stay under the sheets, exchanging lazy kisses, reveling in the feeling of fingertips on warm skin, their legs tangled together, every movement languid and slow.

It always takes them a while to get up, and Dean's often surprised that they manage to do it. But they have to put on the appearance of being normal humans, so they do. If they have work, they'll share the bathroom, one of them showering while the other brushes his teeth and such, and then switching. It's nice, Dean thinks, having someone to share a morning routine with. It makes something so mundane a lot better, when Dean is standing at the sink, his hip bumping against Cas's as they brush their teeth.

And if they aren't working, they'll shower together, and take as much time as they want. That's Dean's favorite part. Everything about it is just so good, from the hot spray of the water on his skin, to Cas's hands rubbing soap into his chest and his arms and his back, and the little moans Cas makes when Dean shampoos Cas's hair, running his fingers through it and massaging his scalp. It's wonderful.

Then they'll get dressed, Dean helping Cas to pick out clothes to wear for the day (as he's still getting used to the dynamics of dressing like a human and not just staying in his vessel's clothes). They finally got Cas a suit so he can look like a real FBI agent, and now he also has a decent closet of jeans and t-shirts that he likes. Breakfast is next, whether that's at a diner on the road or cereal and a banana in the hotel room, and it's always good. Everything with Cas is good.

Dean won't deny that nights are good too (for reasons we won't mention here), but mornings are starting to become his favorite.


	17. Day Seventeen

_Day Seventeen - Spooning_

The clock read 2:47.

Dean was lying awake in the semi-comfortable twin bed he had claimed as his own at Bobby's house. It was pretty small, but it had been his since he was little, when his dad would drop him and Sammy off while he was working. There were posters hung on the walls, some of their corners peeling, of bands and Chuck Norris. Old 70's and 80's records were scattered across the desk and the floor around it. If Dean had ever had a bedroom to call his own, this was it.

Now it was 2:51. Dean rolled out of the bed, stretching and wincing as his shoulders popped. He had gone to bed around midnight, and still hadn't fallen asleep. It was becoming harder and hared for him to get good rest lately. It sucked. Anyway, he felt like a midnight snack. Not bothering to put on any pants, he opened his door and padded down the hallway in his t-shirt and boxers.

Sam was asleep in the room across the hall from Dean, and the sound of Bobby snoring could be heard from a room farther down on Dean's left. He rubbed his eyes. Was that a light on in the kitchen?

_Damn it_, he thought as he entered the room. Cas was sitting at the table with his back to Dean, poring over some of Bobby's enormous books. He had been there since dinner time, and it looked as if he hadn't moved. Cas had the uncanny ability to sit completely still for however long he wanted. The four of them were working a case, hunting some crazy powerful Norse god or something, and Cas felt the need to make himself useful by doing research, but Dean had a hunch that Cas actually liked reading those big-ass books. Friggin' masochist. Except for this time, Cas dropped his head, running his hands through his hair in what looked like frustration.

Dean moved to the fridge. "Cas," he greeted the angel.

"Hello, Dean," came the reply. Cas didn't look up. "What are you doing awake? It's late."

"I could ask you the same," Dean mumbled through a mouthful of a someone else's leftovers. Cas turned and fixed him with an incredibly condescending look, and Dean just rolled his eyes. "Couldn't sleep."

Cas ignored him. "Dean, you know full well that I do not require rest the way that humans do." He sounded way frustrated.

"Sorry, man, but that's a bunch of bull," Dean said. Cas was becoming more and more human every day, and just two nights ago he had fallen asleep in the backseat of the Impala. It seemed to Dean that his angel pal was becoming less angel, which probably scared Cas (and rightly so), and he was trying to hide it from the rest of them. "Come on, Cas, don't lie to me. You need sleep and you know it." Cas didn't reply, but turned around, looking down at the open book in front of him, hands folded in his lap. Dean sighed.

"Cas, you've been at it for hours. You're not going to get anything done if you're this tired. Come on. You can sleep in the bed in my room if you want; I'll take the couch." Dean walked over and put his hand on the angel's shoulder. "Please, Cas?"

Castiel stood very suddenly. "Alright."

"Oh," Dean wasn't expecting him to give in so easily. "A-alright."

He led the way down the hall, Cas just a step behind him the whole way. Awkwardly, Dean opened the door. "There you go." Cas entered the room slowly and sat on the edge of the bed. His eyes moved around the room, taking in the scenery. "Good night, Dean," he said, his blue eyes landing on Dean, who was still leaning against the doorframe, as Cas leaned over stiffly and laid down.

"Really, Cas?" Dean scoffed, but the angel just looked confused. "Sit up, dumbass, you can't sleep in those clothes." Cas's brow was furrowed. "Jesus," Dean muttered, striding over to the bed. "Stand up." Cas obeyed, climbing to his feel. Dean sighed. It was only awkward if he made it awkward. He reached up to slip the trench coat from Cas's shoulders, folding it and setting it on the sand-colored carpet at the foot of the bed. His fingers pulled clumsily at the cheap blue tie that hung crookedly around Castiel's neck. It took him longer than normal to slip it out of its knot, and Dean cursed inwardly at himself. Why was he so damn nervous? He tossed the tie down with the coat and started fumbling with the buttons on Cas's shirt. That came off too, and Dean found himself averting his eyes from Cas's bare chest, trying not to pay too much attention. "Alright, do I have to take of your pants, too, or can you handle that? Because that's a little too personal for me." Cas cocked his head to the side, but he started to unbuckle his belt and the button on his black slacks. He toed off his shoes and socks and then pulled off the trousers, and stood before Dean in a simple pair of black boxer shorts.

"Better?" he asked. Dean felt his cheeks grow hot and willed himself to stop blushing.

"Yeah, that's better. It'll be more comfortable to sleep in, at least. Night, Cas." Dean turned, walking as fast as he could to the door. This was weird, and he wanted out now. But of course, Cas stopped him.

"Dean." He would never grow tired of listening to Cas say his name. It just sounded nice, the way it rolled off of Cas's lips, his gruff voice pronouncing the vowels just so, and it captured Dean's attention in the most incredible way. "You need sleep."

Well, duh. "Yeah, Cas, that's why I'm going to sleep on the couch," Dean replied. He thought that he had made it clear.

"No, you're not." Cas sounded so matter-of-fact, and Dean started to protest, but the angel cut him off. "You couldn't sleep before in this bed, and you haven't for the past few nights as well. I've noticed. You won't sleep on the couch."

"Okay, so? I can try, can't I?" What the hell was Cas getting at?

Cas paused for a second. "Stay. Let me help. I won't sleep until you do, Dean."

"Cas..." Dean began. "Cas, are you asking me to sleep with you?" The angel nodded. Dean was just about to say "hell no" and get out of the room, but Cas seemed insistent, and honestly, Dean kind of missed having a warm body next to him while he slept, even if that was usually a female body. So he sighed, shut the door and flipped the light switch, pulled off his t-shirt, and clambered onto the bed next to Cas.

He laid on his back, staying to the left side of the bed and keeping a good couple of inches between him and Cas, as much as the small mattress would allow for. But it seemed as if the angel had something different in mind. He stared at Dean from where he was laying on his side, his gaze piercing Dean's bare skin until he finally had to look. He turned over to face Cas. "What?" he said. He could still make out the smooth lines of Cas's face in the moonlight that was filtering through the window.

"Come here, please." Cas was holding his arms out towards Dean.

Dean snorted. "Are you fucking kidding me, Cas? No! I agreed to stay here and sleep with you in the same bed, okay? I'm not about to cuddle with you. Let's take this one step at a time. Jesus." But Cas was relentless.

"Dean. Please."

A string of cuss words ran through Dean's mind, but he scooted closer all the same. Now he was on his side, too, facing Cas. "Fine." He waited, because he sure as hell wasn't making the first move. Dean was expecting Cas to curl up into his arms, to put his head on Dean's shoulder, or something like that, but what he wasn't expecting was for Cas to start handing out the orders.

"Turn over."

It took Dean a second to comprehend that. "Turn over?" he repeated, weighing the implications of Cas's command. Then he got it. Cas wanted to spoon. "Aw, shit, Cas, first you want me to sleep with you, then you want to get all snuggly, and now you're asking me to be the little spoon? Who do you-"

"I'm not asking, Dean. Turn over." There was a hint of frustration in Cas's voice this time. Dean was being rather stubborn, but he had never been the girl in a relationship, probably because the gender roles had been pretty straightforward when Dean dated women. Cas sighed. "Dean, I'm just trying to help you. You spend so much time taking care of everyone else. I want to take care of you for once. Relax, please, and let me take care of you tonight." Dean was taken aback by that. He'd never heard the angel sound so... tender. Well, even if he hated it, Cas wasn't going to let him say no, and at this point, all the fight had left him. So he turned over and let Cas win, just this once.

The angel wrapped his strong arms around Dean, one under his shoulder and the other over Dean's waist. Cas was surprisingly gentle as he pulled Dean closer, so that their bare skin was touching, Dean's back to Castiel's chest. Dean gasped softly as Cas buried his nose into the back of Dean's neck, his breath raising the hair there and giving Dean goosebumps on his arms. _Oh._ Okay. This was nice. Dean could understand why girls liked this so much. He felt kind of small, but in a good way, like he was... safe. He relaxed, allowing his eyes to drift shut as Castiel's thumb stroked over the skin of his hipbone.

He registered someone humming the tune of "Hey, Jude." The last thing he remembered before he fell asleep was smiling and thinking to himself _I didn't know Cas listened to the Beatles_. When he woke the next morning, it was slow, eyes gradually adjusting to the streaks of light that were falling across the bedsheets and the two bodies laying there. He turned over and snuggled closer to the warmth of the angel, whose arms tightened around him and held him close. Safe. He was the sleepy kind of content, skin against warm skin, but for the first time in years, Dean felt like he could finally rest.


	18. Day Eighteen

_Day Eighteen - Doing Something Together (Bowling)_

"I can't believe you've never gone bowling, Cas!" Dean laughs as they sit on one of the couches at the local bowling alley, tying on their colorful shoes. "Seriously. Out of all of the Earth things you've done, man, this is one of the essentials."

Cas glances around the brightly lit area, with its slippery wood floors and shiny disco lights that dance across the walls. There's some music on that Dean is humming along to, with a quick beat and lots of men's voices. He finishes tying his shoes, which are red and blue with a yellow stripe in the middle. They make his feet look much bigger than they actually are. Dean grabs Cas's arm and drags him over to what he calls a 'lane.' Dean had explained the game in the car, and Cas recites it over again in his head. _There are ten white pins at the end of the lane, and two gutters on each side. The goal is to knock over all of the pins with a bowling ball. There are ten frames, which means that Dean and I will each have two shots every frame to knock the pins down. Except for the tenth frame, if I get a strike or a... a what?_ Cas can't remember what it's called, but if he gets in in the last frame, he gets to take an extra throw. Dean claims that bowling is a simple game, but there are so many terms that Cas doesn't understand. For example, Dean mentioned something about a turkey. Castiel hopes there is not an actual turkey involved.

Dean sets their things on one of the blue chairs next to the white console in front of them. There's a screen that hangs directly over their lane, reading "START NEW GAME" in big yellow letters, with a couple of ads around it for the food at concessions and also how to win a free round of bowling. Dean sits down in front of the console and hits some buttons, and the screen lights up with a grid, eleven columns and two rows. He types in their names, and their first initials appear in the first column, the D above the C. He turns around and smiles. "Come on, Cas. We gotta pick out bowling balls."

There's five large racks behind all the chairs that hold a variety of the colored spheres. Dean tells Cas that they increase in weight from left to right. Dean goes for the thirteen-pound ones, picking a turquoise one and testing it out, and opting instead for a darker blue. Cas decides that the same weight will work for him, taking a green ball and holding it in his hands. "This one will suffice, I think," he says to Dean, who laughs.

They place the bowling balls on a smaller rack near the front of the lane. Dean goes first, to show Cas how to throw the ball. "Watch and learn," he says. He puts his fingers in the three holes, swinging it back and forth at his side before he draws it up with both hands just below his chin. Dean breathes for a second before taking three long strides and releasing the bowling ball, his right leg sliding behind his left. They watch the ball roll down the lane. It curves slightly to the left and knocks down six of the pins. He turns back to Cas, grinning. "See? It's easy!" He waits for the ball to come back on the retrieving machine before throwing a second time, knocking down two more pins. The numbers appear on the screen, giving Dean a score of eight points in the first frame.

It's Cas's turn now. So he steps up on to the ledge and picks up his bowling ball. He tries to put his fingers in the holes, but Dean chuckles. "Wrong way," he says. "Your thumb goes in the bottom one, and then your middle finger and your ring finger in the top two." Cas fixes it, and oh, yes, that feels much better. Then Dean steps up with him to show Cas how the steps go. Left, right, left, throw. There's three black lines on the floor, and Dean tells Cas to stand behind the first, and not to go over the third into the lane. Dean makes him practice a few times before deeming him ready.

Cas tries his best to copy all of Dean's moves. He makes sure his feet are in the right place, swings the ball twice at his side, brings it up to his chin and breathes in deeply. Three steps and he lets go, and watches as it rolls straight down the lane and knocks out all ten pins. The monitor above him flashes bright red and yellow with the word "STRIKE!"

He turns back to a flabbergasted Dean, whose mouth is hanging wide open. "What the hell, man?" Cas just shrugs and steps back to let Dean take his turn. This time Dean knocks down only three of the pins on his first throw, and the second time the ball rolls to the right and goes into the gutter.

Cas throws another strike in the second frame. Dean is stunned, and his eyes are wide when Cas turns around. "Are you sure you've never bowled before?" Cas is sure. "What the hell," Dean mumbles again under his breath.

They continue the game, Cas steadily leading. By the fifth frame, Cas has thrown three strikes and two spares, and Dean is tired of losing, so he decides that Cas has to do a lot of silly things like roll the ball with two hands while standing still, and sit down and push it with his feet. The score starts to even out, and now they're both having more fun.

A song comes on the speakers and Dean lets out a whoop. "I love this song!" He's dancing around the wood floor while he waits for his ball to come back on the machine, and Cas laughs. The song has lots of horns and Dean's snapping along. He picks up a bowling ball and tosses it down the lane, knocking down the remaining pins. The screen above them turns blue and the words "SPARE" roll across. Dean thrusts his hands in the air and turns around, singing in a high pitched voice. "Baaah dee ah, say do you remember, baaah dee ah, dancing in September..." He dances over to Cas and takes his hands, and starts moving Cas around with him. "Dance with me, Cas!" They disco lights are flashing around the room, and Cas watches as they turn Dean's face purple, blue, pink, red, green, yellow. He's never seen Dean smile so much, so he dances. The moves probably don't match this style of music, but Cas doesn't know and he doesn't care, because Dean's happy, which makes him happy.

When the song's over, they both collapse on the couch next to each other, and Dean's arm ends up around Cas's shoulder. Dean's breathing hard, but he's grinning as he looks at the angel. "That was awesome."

They finish their game, Cas sending Dean into a fit of laughter when he tries to throw the ball under his leg, and ends up falling over. Cas wins, but only by a little bit. They leave the bowling alley smiling, with Dean humming the tune of the song they had danced to. Dean pulls Cas into a side hug as they walk to the Impala. "Thanks for coming with me, Cas. I had fun today."

"Me too, Dean."

_Later on, when he was in Purgatory, Cas would look back on this day, and think of Dean's smile and how he had danced, and it would keep him fighting. Dean deserved that happiness. And Cas would do anything to make sure he got it. _


	19. Day NineteenTwenty

_Day Nineteen/Twenty - In Formal Wear/Dancing_

Dean turns, looking back towards the mirror to check if his collar is folded down all the way in the back. Off in the other room, Sam is helping Cas into his tuxedo. The boys are in Clarksville, Tennessee, where there is a serious case of witchcraft going on. So far, all of the people that have died were part of a non-profit organization that raised money for foster children or something. Either that or schools in Asia. Dean can't remember. Anyway, the non-profit is having their annual fundraiser tonight, so they're going in undercover to see if they can find a witch. It's black tie, of course, so Sam and Dean pulled out their old tuxes, and they had gone to a local costume store to rent one for Cas. As much as Dean sometimes complained about being uncomfortable in the thing, he did look rather good with the bow tie and shiny shoes, the Italian-cut waist, and his hair combed back.

Sam and Cas emerge from the bathroom, both of them freshly showered, shaven and dressed, and wow. Cas looks... wow. Dean's never really seen Cas in anything other than his usual trench coat and tie, but he loves the way this outfit accents the angel's broad shoulders and slim waist. His shock of dark hair is tamed down ever so slightly, just enough that it is in a purposeful disarray. He walks with his hands in his pockets and confidence in his step, which Dean can't help but admire.

"Damn, Cas," Dean notes, throwing in a hint of teasing in his voice. He doesn't really want Cas to know he's serious. "You clean up pretty good."

Regardless of Dean's tone, Cas grins. "Thank you. You look nice as well, Dean."

As Sam is tucking the tickets into his jacket, Dean straightens Cas's bow tie. He smiles at the angel. "Remember everything we taught you?" Cas nods.

Earlier in the day, Dean had gone out to grab lunch for the three of them, and had returned to the motel, greasy paper bags in hand, to find Sam teaching Cas how to dance. The fundraiser they were going to had a band playing, and was being held in a large ballroom, so of course, they would fit in better if they danced. Cas and Sam were standing in the middle of the motel room, arms extended as if holding on to an invisible partner, Sam preaching about his "frame" or something. As soon as Dean had walked in the door, Sam had called him over eagerly.

"Dean! Come dance with Cas, he needs a partner."

"Hell no," Dean had replied. "You be his partner, if you're so good at dancing."

"I'm too tall to pretend to be a woman," Sam had told him. "He needs someone closer to his height."

So after a few minutes of arguing and nagging, Dean had finally given in. And it was fine. Along with his "delicate features" or whatever, Dean had always been light on his feet, and he actually excelled in their middle school ballroom dancing classes. It was probably just because of his obvious charm and the fact that he liked to lead, but you know. He was a good dancer, regardless. It was hard for him to give up the control and let Cas push him around the floor, but it was kind of hilarious to watch the angel look so concentrated on the movement of their feet.

Cas did get the hang of it after a while, and Sam finally dubbed him ready for the fundraiser after he stopped looking down at his feet. That was slightly awkward, though, as Sam had told Cas to look Dean right in the eyes and not look away, which he did, and the gaze was so intense that it was almost uncomfortable. But Dean didn't really mind. It was Cas, and he was used to it.

They pull up to the old hotel where the fundraiser is being held, Dean parks the Impala and they all climb out. The hotel is old, but it's historic and beautiful, and really nice in comparison to the places they usually stay. Sam, with a charming smile on his face, retrieves the tickets that are under their fake names, and they enter to the sound of an orchestra. Dean feels like he has just stepped into one of those old movies. All the men are looking sharp in their tuxedos and the women in long gowns, the dance floor is covered in couples waltzing to the music, and the large band sits off to the side, complete with horns and strings and a conductor with coattails and crazy white hair. The tables around the dance floor hold the food, and waiters are walking around in white gloves carrying trays of hors d'oeuvres and flutes of champagne. It's all a little bit foofy for Dean's taste, but he is determined to enjoy the luxury for one night.

Sam goes off to grab some food and chat with some men standing near the tables, to see what he can find out about the president of this charity, a mysterious woman who was the top suspect for the witch they were searching for. Dean sends Cas off to the bathroom to check for hex bags.

"What are you going to do?" Cas asks him as they weave through the crowd.

"I'm going to Sherlock Holmes this bitch," Dean grins, pointing to a pretty woman in a sparkling purple dress who is standing near the wall. Cas nods solemnly as if he understands, and leaves in the direction of the restrooms. Dean approaches the lady, checking for a ring on her finger or any sign that she is here with someone. He finds none. Straightening his shoulders, he walks confidently up to her and holds out a hand. "Care to dance?" he asks. The woman accepts with a sweet smile, and they take to the dance floor, Dean leading her out among the other couples.

She's gorgeous, with dark hair pinned to the top of her head, high cheekbones, kind brown eyes, and a small figure. Her hand is thin but strong in Dean's, her other resting gently on his shoulder. He smiles at her as they waltz. "I'm Dean," he says. "And you are?"

"Emily," she replies. He spins her, and even in her tall silver heels, she looks graceful. They dance for a few minutes before she starts asking questions.

"So, Dean," she begins, eyeing him coyly. "Here by yourself?"

Dean shakes his head. "I came with my brother and a friend of mine. Didn't have time to find a date." Emily laughs at that. "And yourself? What's a beautiful woman like yourself doing here without a man on your arm?"

Emily smacks his arm lightly, teasingly. "Oh, hush," she says, blushing. "I'm here with my brother, too, actually. His wife is the president of this non-profit. He begged me to come, so I kind of had to. He was my date, but he ran off somewhere." An alarm goes off in Dean's head. Great. He's dancing with the sister-in-law of a possible witch. Just his luck.

He happens to glance over at Sam as he and Emily are turning, and notices that his brother's is tucking his hair back behind his right ear. That's the signal that means Cas has found a hex bag and has taken care of destroying it. Good. The party is safe for now.

He's been dancing with Emily for a few songs when he feels a hand on his shoulder. Dean looks up to see Cas standing next to him, so he stops moving, Emily halting with him. "Mind if I cut in?" asks Cas with a smile.

Dean is surprised, but he lets go of Emily's waist with a tiny bow, waiting for Cas to take her hand. He's even more surprised when Cas takes his instead.

Cas pulls him close with a hand placed in the small of Dean's back and starts to move him across the floor. Emily is still standing where he left her, looking stunned. Shit. "Cas, man, what are you doing?" Dean asked. For once, Cas didn't look even remotely awkward or out of place. He was actually smiling.

"I found the hex bag, hidden in the bathroom. I destroyed it. And then Sam told me to find someone I wanted to dance with. So I did."

"Cas," Dean groans. "Sam meant find a girl you want to dance with. Not me. Do you know how bad this looks? Cas, people are staring." But for whatever reason, Dean couldn't find it in him to step away.

"Dean, I didn't want to dance with anyone but you."

Well, if he didn't want to stop before, he certainly can't now. Dean tries not to smile as Cas spins him out and then back into his arms. They are pressed together, chest against chest, and people are definitely watching them, but Dean doesn't really care. Sam is dancing with Emily now, and they're both grinning when Dean looks over; Sam's face fixed with a smug look, and Emily laughing as she mouths "a friend?" Dean rolls his eyes at them, but he's too happy to be bothered by their teasing.

When his eyes go back to Cas, he notices that the angel is looking down at his feet again, watching his steps, trying hard not to mess up. "Cas," Dean says softly. "Cas, look at me." The angel's blue eyes flicker up to his own. "Forget about your feet. Just keep looking at me." This time, when Cas holds his gaze, it's not uncomfortable. Their movements are smooth, together. Cas is smiling, hard, and it's great. Dean wraps his arm further around the angel's shoulder as they rock back and forth to the music.

Screw witches and hex bags and non-profit presidents. He's going to dance with Cas all night long.


	20. Day Twenty One

_Day Twenty One - Baking_

"Dammit!" Dean shouts, the rolling pin dropping from his hand onto the counter with a clatter. He mumbles a string of cuss words under his breath as he attempts to get the dough unstuck from the wooden pin, to no avail. It's hard with only one hand, the damn thing keeps rolling away from him.

Dean had gotten into a pretty nasty accident with some vamps when he had gone into a nest to clear them out. He and Cas had underestimated the number they were dealing with, and although there were no bites, Dean's forearm had snapped clean in two when one of them threw him across the room. Cas's angel mojo was kind of running out with him being separated from heaven for so long, so Dean didn't want him wasting energy healing him, and now he's doing it the old-fashioned way, with a plaster cast and a sling. But it sucks, because Cas won't let him out of the motel room lest he hurt himself or do something stupid, and he's getting stir crazy.

So he wants to bake. He's been craving pie, and Cas says no every time Dean asks him to get some at the store, so Dean decides that he's just going to have to make it himself. He's rather good at baking, but he just can't pull it off with one arm in a sling. It's impossible. He brushes the flour on his good hand off onto his jeans and treads into the tiny living room of the motel.

"Cas," he whines, drawing out the a in the angel's name.

"What is it, Dean?" Cas asks, marking his page and setting his book on the coffee table as he looks up at where Dean is standing. He's been concerned about Dean's arm for the past couple days, but Dean thinks that he's starting to find Dean's inability to do normal tasks a little bit amusing, and that pisses Dean off.

"Cas, I can't fucking bake with this thing," he complains, gesturing to his lame arm. The tiniest of smirks graces Cas's lips, and Dean's torn between wanting to smack it off and kiss it off. "It's not funny! I want this pie so bad. Will you come help me, please?"

Cas groans lightly and rolls his eyes, standing up and placing his reading glasses on top of his book. (Those are the reading glasses that he had insisted he needed, but Dean only likes them because they're really hot. They make Cas look like a sexy librarian or something.) He follows Dean into the kitchenette, chuckling at the abandoned dough and rolling pin on the counter, and the flour that is scattered everywhere.

Together, they are able to get the dough even and into the pan, and Dean makes the cherry filling by himself pretty easily, although Cas has to open all the jars. It takes them a while, but finally they get the pie into the oven. Cas starts to clean up the kitchen while they wait.

_Day Twenty One - Baking_

"Hey, Cas," Dean says, leaning against the counter and watching Cas load the dishwasher. The angel straightens up and looks at Dean curiously. "You've got a little stuff right there." Dean points to Cas's hair. Cas is confused, reaching up to his head to check, as Dean flicks a tiny bit of flour into his hair, laughing as Cas's eyes widen.

"Dean!" He tries to brush out all of the white from his hair, using the microwave door as a mirror. "That's not funny."

"I'm sorry," Dean says, sending another puff of white powder into Cas's face when he turns around. Cas furrows his brow angrily. Dean snickers. "It's pretty damn funny."

Cas stands there, fists clenched and face covered in the powdery substance, glowering. And then, in a flash, he's reaching out, wiping a fistful of flour across Dean's cheek, and it falls and settles onto the collar of his shirt and his sling. That sneaky little bastard.

It turns into an all-out flour fight, the two of them laughing and tossing it across the kitchen until every single surface is covered in it, and Dean finally pulls Cas in with his good arm and plants a kiss right on his floury lips.

"Come on," he says as the oven beeps. "Let's clean up, and then we can have some of that pie."


	21. Day Twenty Two

_Day Twenty Two - In Battle, Side by Side_

Dean popped the trunk of the Impala, propping it open with a gun. He tucked his handgun into the waistband of his jeans, though he doubted he'd be using it. Bullets didn't work on the kind of creatures they were hunting; he kept being reminded of that fact whenever they encountered the Leviathan, it seemed. But he liked to have it on him just in case. In his duffel bag, he had a couple bottles of that cleaner shit that worked on these stupid things. He zipped it up and set it aside. In his right hand, he picked up a machete and swung in around a few times. Grinning, he turned to his partner.

"Ready to go, Cas?"

Castiel smiled back carefully, sliding the angel blade out of his sleeve. "Ready." They had discovered that not only was it good for killing angels and smiting demons, but it also cut of the heads off Leviathan pretty well.

Shutting and locking the trunk again, they walked towards the warehouse where they had figured out the three Leviathan were hiding. They weren't holding hands like they usually did, as Dean had one hand around his weapon and the other holding onto the duffel bag slung over his shoulder, but they walked close enough so that their arms were brushing with every step.

As they reached the door, Cas stopped short and grabbed the collar of Dean's jacket. Pulling him close, he kissed Dean hard on the lips, sweetly and desperately. "Don't do anything stupid," he whispered, their lips brushing together as he spoke. Dean smirked as he planted a kiss on Castiel's forehead.

"Me? Never."

They entered the building as quietly as possible, splitting up once they got inside. Cas was to take the main level, distract the creatures there, while Dean went up to the balcony with his bottles of floor cleaner to dump on their heads from above. The plan worked well, and they had utilized it a couple times already. They would then take off the heads, burn the bodies separately and bury the heads by themselves, far, far away from where the ashes were. It was a good enough solution until they found out how to kill the damn things once and for all. Dean took the metal stairs up to the second level, smiling down at Cas when he looked back one last time.

They made a good pair. Not only in their relationship, but fighting monsters, too. Dean had been worried that it would affect them negatively, but really it turned out to be quite the advantage. They knew each other so well, they had each learned the exact way the other moved, they knew how the other would react in any and every situation. It was as if they were one incredibly strong person fighting with eight limbs instead of four. It was different than fighting with Sam, because Sam was his obligation. And that sounded bad, it was true. He felt obligated to take care of Sammy, even though he knew that Sam could take care of himself well enough. With Cas, the worry was there, sure. Dean hated when Cas got hurt. But something about the level of trust and understanding and love that the two had kept Castiel from becoming Dean's weakness. The angel was not a responsibility; he was a partner and an equal.

Dean crept along the balcony, trying to keep his steps quiet. His machete was held out in front of him, in case any unsuspected Leviathan found him, but his eyes were watching what was happening below. Cas was sneaking through the main level, hiding behind boxes and file cabinets and whatever else was tall enough to keep him out of sight. Dean glanced over to where he heard voices talking. There were two of the Leviathan, a man and a woman, and they had another guy tied up in a chair. Shit. They hadn't expected them to have another person. Well, the dude was going to be mentally scarred after they were done here, but at least he'd still be alive. Cas glanced up and Dean gave him the signal to go just as one of the Leviathans opened its mouth and bore its ugly teeth.

The two monsters looked up quickly at the resounding crash as Cas pushed over one of the cabinets in front of him. The one who was about to eat the man closed its mouth, returning to human form, and both the Leviathan walked over to the sideways cabinet, stepping over the hundreds of papers that were scattered across the floor. The third Leviathan, the one that had been out of Dean's sight, approached with them. Cas was now crouching behind another couple of stacked boxes, waiting for them to get closer.

"Come out, come out, wherever you are!" the woman teased, her voice sickeningly sweet. The other two laughed, shoving aside empty boxes as they made their way through the warehouse, closer and closer to Cas. No matter how many times they had done this, Dean still got a tiny bit nervous right about here. Even though it always worked out fine, he was still worried Cas might get hurt, or worse. But the angel was crouched down directly beneath where Dean was standing, which meant that Dean had to focus. He unzipped the duffel bag and pulled out the bottles of floor cleaner, uncapping one of them and setting it next to the railing, waiting.

Finally they were close enough for Cas to stand, the angel blade ready in his hand. He stood his ground, his feet planted steadily as they surrounded him, laughing. "What do we have here?" one of the men said. Their sarcastic tones made Dean all the more excited to kill them. "Sorry, buddy, you can try all you want. We don't die. You, on the other hand…"

"He's a looker, don't you think?" The woman chimed in again, grinning. "We might want to hang on to this one. Looks tasty to me." They all laughed in unison. Dean couldn't have found them more disgusting than he did in that moment.

Cas narrowed his eyes at them. "It seems as if you are forgetting something."

The Leviathan weren't phased. "Is that so?" The third one said, creeping closer to Cas. Their little circle around him had tightened considerably, just enough to make Dean's aiming a bit easier. "What could we possibly be forgetting?" Cas shrugged.

"Did you happen to check the forecast this morning?"

Dean had to stifle a giggle at the Leviathan's confused faces. Cas had been watching too many action movies, it had seemed; Dean was a bad influence. The angel kept trying to say witty little things before they killed anything, because he thought it was cool. It wasn't, but Dean did find it incredibly amusing. The monsters, however, didn't. "Forecast? What are you talking about?"

"The weather," said Cas nonchalantly. "Because I checked it, just before I came here. You know what it said?" The angel gave a tiny smile as he pulled his coat up over his head. "100% chance of rain."

And there was his cue. Dean dumped the largest of the bottles of cleaner over the rail, and from the hissing and screaming from below, he knew he had hit his mark. Scooping up the other bottles in one arm, he sprinted down the stairs to Cas's side.

Cas had managed to sneak out of the monster's circle while they were momentarily occupied with their burning skin. Dean tossed him one of the bottles as he ran up, both of them simultaneously sloshing more of the liquid onto the Leviathan. It only took one swing of Dean's blade to take the woman's head off, a spray of black goo covering the floor where it rolled away. Another followed quickly as Cas cut off one of the men's. He looked to Dean as he wiped the black blood from his blade. The last creature was on its knees, clawing at its face in pain. Dean gave it another splash of cleaner before he glanced over at Cas.

"You or me?" he asked, gesturing to the last Leviathan.

Cas slid the blade back into his sleeve. "Go ahead." Dean grinned as he turned and lopped off the creature's head. He was rewarded with a thick spray of nasty black goo across his front and a satisfying thump as the head fell to the floor.

When he turned around, he saw that Cas had already gone to help the Leviathan's captive, who had passed out at some point. That was probably for the best. Easier for them if they didn't have to explain why he had been about to be eaten. Cas cut the unconscious guy loose and hoisted him up. "I'm going to take him to the car. Can you take care of this?" Dean nodded, and Castiel left him to clean up.

Dean dragged the headless bodies behind the warehouse, where there was an empty field, and piled them up. He poured the remainder of the cleaner over them (that was a plus, not only did it hurt the Leviathan, it also substituted for gasoline) and struck a match. While they burned away, he went back inside and put the heads in the duffel bag, for them to bury on the other end of town. He shuddered. As much as he had seen, there was still something really, really nasty about picking up severed heads. Especially ones that were bleeding black goo.

By the time Cas got back, Dean had pretty much taken care of everything. The duffel bag in one hand and his Levi-blood-stained jacket in the other, they made sure the fire out back had burned itself out and that the ashes were scattered fairly well before they made their way back to the Impala. All that was left was, of course, dropping the Leviathan's meal at the hospital, and they were good to go.

Dean was smiling as he sat down in the driver's seat. He leaned over and kissed Castiel's cheek. "Nice work today." Cas smiled and took his hand over the gearshift as they drove away.

Working with Cas was the greatest.


	22. Day Twenty Three

_Day Twenty Three - Arguing_

"Cas, we're burying him, and that's final."

Dean slammed the door of the Impala, walking across the scrap yard until he got to the wooden box that he had crafted, six-foot five-inches long. He didn't wait for Castiel to follow him across the yard, but he knew the angel would be right behind him anyway, so it didn't really matter. The body inside the box was wrapped in cloth, and Dean went to tug it back to reveal the face behind it. He felt the knots in his stomach tighten, but he swallowed back the bile in his throat and bit his tongue, refusing to show that it killed him to look.

"Dean, I know you want to bury him, I understand. But you're not thinking. You don't want him coming back the way Bobby did, do you? You don't want that for him. You've got to give him the proper funeral, Dean, you've got to cremate him." As he had expected, he could hear Cas's footsteps following close behind him.

Dean spoke again, harshly, without turning around. "He's not going to come back as a ghost, Cas. He's going to come back for real. That's why we can't burn him, he's coming back and we're gonna need him in one piece."

"Dean—"

"No, Cas! He's coming back, okay? We both did it once, he can do it again!" Dean said sharply. He looked down at the familiar face: the long chestnut hair, the sharp nose, prominent cheekbones, the thin lips that were no longer smiling but instead resting in a neutral, slack position. The worry lines were gone from his forehead and eyes. Dean had cleaned him up to the best of his ability, wiping most of the blood and covering up what he could of the injuries. He was dressed in his favorite flannel shirt, a good pair of jeans, with Ruby's demon knife tucked into his hand, and Dad's old leather hunting jacket bundled under his left arm. He looked more peaceful than he had in years. Like he was sleeping.

"Dean, I'm sorry," Cas spoke softly, wringing his hands as he approached the hunter who was standing over the coffin. "I'm so sorry, but Sam's gone, Dean. He closed the gates of Hell, he locked himself inside. He can't come back without opening them up again, and even then, it won't be good, it really won't work. Dean, you need to say goodbye to him, and then you need to give him a proper funeral. Please."

Dean whipped around to face Cas angrily. "You don't know that! You don't know that he can't come back! We always come back, Cas, we come back every time, _we never die_. He has to come back, he's going to, I know it, okay? We can't burn him if he's coming back. He did the same thing for me when I went to hell, and I'm returning the favor! This is what he would have wanted!" He was yelling, his jaw set and brow furrowed.

Cas didn't know what else to do. He knew that Dean was grieving, but he couldn't help him. There was nothing he could say to comfort him. So instead he laid a hand on Dean's shoulder, squeezing gently in the exact place that he had held to pull this Righteous Man from Hell. He kept his hand steady as Dean repeated that mantra, that one thing that kept him together.

"He's coming back, Cas. He is. He's gonna come back, he's gonna—"

Dean hiccupped, and then a sob tore its way from his throat, and suddenly he was on his knees in the dirt, his face buried in his hands. Castiel followed him down, his arms winding their way around Dean's back and cradling him gently. He could hear the muffled wails of the brother's name against his chest. There was a warm wetness soaking into Castiel's shirt from Dean's tears, but he just held tight, his arms wrapped firmly around Dean's back.

Dean pulled back slightly, his eyes red and tear tracks staining his cheeks. "They're all gone, Cas. They all left me. You're the only thing I have. Don't leave me, Cas, please. Don't leave me."

Cas only held him closer then, feeling Dean's hands fisting into the material of his shirt. "I've got you," he whispered, kissing Dean's hair, "Shhhh, I've got you." He rubbed at his back in a futile attempt to calm his hysterics. "I'm not going anywhere, Dean, I promise." They kneeled like that until Cas felt Dean's sobs subside, clinging feebly to whatever hope there was left for someone so broken.

Dean finally wiped his eyes, his breathing back under control, sniffing a little bit. "I'm sorry, Cas. I shouldn't have yelled at you. You're right, we need to cremate him. He deserves a hunter's funeral."

So they stood, brushing the dirt from their pants, and they built the pyre together in the grass, Dean carrying the linen-wrapped body and placing it on top, giving his brother one final kiss on the forehead before lighting the match and standing back to watch Sam go up in flames. Dean gripped Cas's hand tightly, but didn't make a sound as they watched the smoke rise. Cas saw one tear shimmering on Dean's cheek in the light of the fire.

When the fire had burned itself out, they scattered the ashes around a bit, Dean kneeling in front of the charred ground one last time before they left. "Goodbye, Sammy," Cas heard him say. "You did good."

And then they left. They got in the Impala and they drove and drove and drove. Dean was silent for a couple hundred miles, and Cas just sat there and watched as the sun set and rose again, and Dean just drove. He didn't know where they were going, but he knew one thing for sure: as long as Dean Winchester was alive, Castiel would not leave his side.


	23. Day Twenty Four

_Day Twenty Four - Making Up Afterwards_

(dead!Sam, I hate this so much)

Dean hated arguing with Cas.

He hated it so much, with every fiber of his being. He didn't like being mad at Cas, and he certainly didn't like Cas being mad at him. There was just a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach whenever his temper rose with the angel, when that tiny glimmer of insecurity flashed in his blue eyes. He regretted being angry every time it happened.

He couldn't even tell you what the argument was about, for god's sake. All that he remembered was shouting (and lots of it), hands slapped against the table, the tears that had nearly fallen, and a slammed door, and here he was, in his bedroom, door shut and locked, brooding over something that was probably miniscule. Well, the brooding had stopped a while ago and turned into guilt and self-loathing. Dean just felt like such a fuck-up sometimes. He finally had Cas, the only thing in the entire world that he wanted, someone who made him happy and was always there for him when he needed it, someone to fight alongside him, and he was just screwing it up by yelling at him about trivial things. Ever since Sam's death, the smallest things set Dean off. The first few times Cas had tried so hard to comfort Dean, to hold him and be understanding, but when Dean was angry, he shut out the world, and he wouldn't accept Cas's love even if he wanted to. And then after a while, Cas stopped trying. It felt so wrong, when Cas would turn away from him, shoulders trembling, and walk away. He _hated_ it.

Dean shut off the light and crawled under the covers of his bed in his t-shirt and boxers. The bed felt cold and half-empty without Cas next to him. He turned over and over constantly, trying to get comfortable, but everything felt strange, wrong. He laid there for an hour before he decided it was time to make things right again.

He wandered down the hallway slowly, peering around the corner into the living room. Cas wasn't there. He checked the kitchen, some of the other bedrooms, but Cas was nowhere to be found. Of course, though, Dean had forgotten. The library. Cas loved that room, he spent so much of his time in there reading the books, unfolding old maps and yellowed documents, learning everything he could. Dean found him sitting at the head of the table, his back turned to the door and his head bowed. He could have been praying. Dean was almost scared to disturb him, but he could see Cas's shoulders stiffen when he entered the room, so it was too late for that.

"Cas," Dean started. The angel didn't turn around, though. Dean didn't know how to interpret that, so he kept going. "Cas, baby, I'm sorry. Come to bed, please."

Cas didn't move a muscle. Dean sighed and walked towards the table cautiously, afraid of what emotions he'd see displayed on Cas's face. "I'm so stupid, Cas. I didn't mean to lose my temper. I'm sorry I got mad at you. It was so stupid. Please forgive me, I can't sleep without you, I can't even think straight knowing you're sitting here and you're upset and I'm so sorry." He laid a hand on Cas's shoulder, and Cas sat up straighter, before shaking it off.

Dean's breath caught in his throat. Cas had never done that before, he'd never shied away from Dean's touch like that. Had he finally gone too far? After Sam's death, he felt like he was slowly pushing Cas away, even though he knew he needed someone to hold him together. This wasn't what he wanted. Why was he such a fuck-up? Suddenly there was a lump in his throat, and he couldn't breathe. Oh god, he was going to cry, he was going to suffocate, he was going to throw up. He was overwhelmed with a sudden fear that he was going to lose Cas, too.

Dropping to his knees next to the chair, he grabbed the edge of the table and rested his forehead against Cas's leg, his breathing hard and uneven. "Please," he begged, "Cas, baby, please, I'm sorry. I deserve this, you have every right to be mad, but please, please, come back to me. I only just lost Sammy, I can't l-lose you too," he sniffed, the first tear rolling down his cheek and dropping onto the wooden floor. His other hand found Castiel's knee and held tight, anchoring him so he wouldn't float away. "Please," he whispered.

"I'm not leaving, Dean." Cas scooted his chair back, standing up and leaving Dean kneeling on the floor, looking pathetically up at Cas while he cried. "I'm not going anywhere." The knot in Dean's throat loosened a bit, and he gasped in a breath. It was fine; they were going to be fine. Cas wasn't going to leave him. He promised. He had promised Dean that he would stay. It wasn't over yet, but Dean had the reassurance that he was not alone.

Dean scooted on his knees to where Cas was standing and wrapped his arms around the angel's middle. It probably looked ridiculous, but Dean was pleading, begging Cas to want him back again. "I'm so sorry," he mumbled into Cas's shirt. Cas didn't pull away, and Dean took that as a positive sign. "I'm gonna try a lot harder, Cas, I'm gonna try not to keep fighting with you. It's just so hard without Sam, I'm sorry." Cas put his hand on the top of Dean's head, stroking his hair.

"I understand," Cas replied softly. "It's not… okay, but I shouldn't expect you to be okay right now. It's hard for both of us, but we can get through it." Dean nodded, waves of relief coursing through his veins. "But you have to stop pushing me away, Dean. No more slamming doors, no more sitting alone in your room. If you want to have me here, you can't keep doing that. If we're going to get through this, we're going to get through it together." He pulled Dean onto his feet and wrapped his arms around Dean's shoulders. Dean hugged back, letting Cas rock him gently as his breathing steadied and the tears stopped leaking out. "Come on," Cas said finally. "It's late; you must be tired." It was nearing midnight, Dean realized, and the emotions had drained him. He let Cas drag him back to the bedroom.

Cas let Dean undress him, slowly, languidly, each layer of clothing revealing a different bit of skin, which Dean peppered with kisses. Letting his fingers drag down Cas's bare chest, he kissed his way up the angel's neck. "I'm sorry," he whispered again into the dip underneath Cas's ear.

"I know," Cas whispered back.

Together, the settled in under the sheets, Dean smiling as Cas's hands caressed his back. This felt right, he thought. This was how it was supposed to be. With his head tucked into the crook of Castiel's arm, Dean shut his eyes. "I love you, Cas," he said quietly, letting the sound of the angel's breathing lull him to sleep.

"I love you, too."


	24. Day Twenty Five

_Day Twenty Five - Gazing into Each Other's Eyes_

"Man, I wish Cas were here right now."

Dean's voice cut through Castiel's thoughts like a knife. Castiel had grown so accustomed to listening for when Dean called that it was as if his voice was amplified a thousand times louder than anything else. It filled Castiel's head with it's deep, rumbling, warm sound, and it made him smile. He could be where Dean was within seconds.

And so he was. The motel room in New Hampshire was very much the same as all the other ones that the boys stayed in. Cas appeared next to one of the beds, as he usually did when one of the Winchesters called him. Sam and Dean were sitting at the table, looking intensely at each other, brows furrowed in concentration.

"Hello," Cas greeted them, confused.

"Hey, Cas!" Dean said, not looking away from Sam or otherwise acknowledging that Cas was in the room.

"Hey," Sam repeated. Their eyes stayed locked on each other, though, leaving Cas wondering why he had been called.

Castiel glanced around the room quickly, waiting for someone else to tell him what was happening, but no such explanation came. The two brothers just continued to sit and stare at each other. It made Castiel even more uncomfortable than he usually was around other people, and that had just started to lessen with these two. Finally, he had to interject.

"I'm sorry to interrupt," he started, weighing his words carefully. "But would you mind explaining to me what you're doing and why you called me here?"

"What, you've never seen a staring contest before?" Dean asked. Castiel cocked his head.

"No, I haven't. What is it?"

Dean sighed heavily; his eyes wide open and trained on Sam as he talked. "Two people try to stare at each other for as long as possible. Whoever blinks first loses."

"Yeah, and Dean thinks he can beat me, although I've never lost one of these contests since we were kids." Sam was smirking, an easy grin on his face even as he kept his eyes wide. Dean leaned in closer, bringing his fingers up to snap in Sam's face. Sam smacked one of his hands. "That's cheating, jerk."

"Bitch," Dean said. There was a noticeable twitch in one of Dean's eyes. He looked as if he was close to blinking, but Cas could tell that he was so determined to win.

"How long has it been?" Castiel asked them.

"About five minutes, I think?" Sam almost glanced down at his watch, but then thought better of it and refocused on Dean. Cas took a seat on the bed and waited. It wouldn't be long, he guessed, before one of them needed to close their eyes. And sure enough, despite his trying to distract Sam with his clapping or a pinch on the arm, Dean blinked first.

"Damn it!" he shouted loudly, jumping up and knocking his chair over. "I'm gonna beat you someday, Sammy, I swear to God." Sam had the decency not to respond, but hid his smile behind his hand a little bit. Dean paced around the room, mildly upset, for a minute before picking his chair back up and plopping down in it, looking only slightly put off. "So, Cas. What's up?"

"Um." Castiel hated that question; he never knew how to respond to it. Sam had taught him the customary response though, even if it made no sense. "Not much."

Dean nodded in response. He looked very silly, Castiel thought, blinking his eyes a lot. "Alright, Sammy, I think I'm good now. Rematch?"

Sam chuckled. "No way, Dean. You're a sore loser. I'm not going to do this with you again." He stood and grabbed his coat from the hanger by the door. "I'm going to go grab dinner. You guys want anything?" Dean rattled off his order, but Castiel shook his head. "Alright. Be back in a few. Don't let him do anything dumb, Cas." Sam shrugged his jacket on and shut the door behind him.

Dean turned back and smacked Cas on the shoulder. "So, how about it, Cas? I want to beat someone at this. Staring contest?"

Cas was about to point out the fact that it wasn't necessary for him to blink, but he figured he could just let Dean figure that out by himself. So he sat down across the table from Dean, got comfortable in the chair, and met Dean's stare with his own. Dean grinned excitedly, obviously thinking that he was going to win this contest.

Castiel was good at sitting still. Much like blinking, moving wasn't something that was necessary for him. Dean, on the other hand, was squirming like a five-year-old on a sugar high. His fingers were tapping a rhythm on the table's surface, his leg jiggling, and he reached up to scratch his nose or his cheek every couple of seconds. His eyes never left Cas's, though, and the lines of concentration in his brow deepened with every passing minute. Eight minutes, they went strong. Dean certainly had his game face on this time, but Castiel could see that his left eye was starting to twitch again. It wouldn't be long before Dean would blink and they could be done with this silly game.

But Dean persisted. It was impressive, actually. After those eight minutes full of silence, it surprised Castiel when Dean started talking. "Your eyes are really big, Cas." Cas wasn't sure how to respond, and gave him a confused look. "It's a compliment, dumbass."

"Oh. Thank you. You have nice eyes, too. They're very… green." Dean laughed at that. It was true, though. Cas really liked looking at Dean's eyes. They reminded him of the color of the rainforest. He looked at Dean's eyes too much, though, or at least that's what Dean told him. The one perk to this silly game was that it's a good excuse to do it.

The staring contest business was starting to get boring, though, at least for Cas. Dean, on the other hand, was starting to struggle. "Dean, you know I don't need to—"

"Shut up, Cas, I'm going to win this."

"But Dean—"

"Shhhhhhh."

If it weren't breaking the rules, Cas would have rolled his eyes. Dean was too stubborn. He was going to keep this up until he finally won. There was only one way that Cas could think of to distract him and make him stop.

So he leaned across the table and kissed Dean. Dean hummed in surprise before his eyes shut and he leaned in towards Cas. The kiss only lasted a few seconds, before Cas sat back down and smirked at the shocked look on Dean's face. "Wh-wha…?" He stuttered. "What the hell?"

"We both closed our eyes at the same time. There. You didn't lose."

Dean was clearly flabbergasted, which Cas found very funny. But he had shut up about the staring contest; the plan had worked swimmingly. Just then, Sam walked back in. He tossed his keys on the table in front of Cas.

"What's up?" he asked, handing Dean one of the brown paper fast food bags.

Dean glanced at Cas for a second, and then back at Sam, blushing. "Nothin'," he grumbled. Cas just shook his head with a smile when Sam turned to him, as if to ask 'what the hell's up with him?'

"Nothing," Cas repeated with a grin. "Absolutely nothing."


	25. Day Twenty Six

_Day Twenty Six - Getting Married_

"Let's make this quick," Dean grumbled, letting his brother straighten his tie. It hadn't been necessary for them to dress up, but both Sam and Cas had agreed that, for the sake of sentimentality, it would be best to look nice. Dean had grudgingly agreed. They weren't in a church, for obvious reasons, and they weren't in a city or state that allowed same-sex marriages (let alone interspecies marriages), but this wasn't a legal ceremony anyways, more of a personal one, just because they wanted to be able to say that they were married.

They, of course, being Cas and Dean.

Dean hadn't really wanted a wedding. He knew how much he loved Cas without any sort of binding contract to tell him so. But Cas had really wanted it, so of course Dean had bought into it. He couldn't deny that to the angel that he loved. And he had to admit that the word "husband" was going to sound nice rolling off his tongue.

Dean felt in his pockets for the rings as he and Sam entered the room in Garth's houseboat where the ceremony would be conducted. There was a table up front with a white tablecloth draped over it that would serve as the altar, and a number of chairs set in front of it. Too many chairs, actually. Why were there so many chairs? The only other people here were Garth and Kevin.

"Kev, why are you setting up so many chairs?" Dean asked.

Kevin shrugged. "Cas told me to. Said it's important." Dean turned to Sam and pointed at the chairs.

"He tell you about this?"

Sam smiled sadly. "Yeah. He wanted it to be a full ceremony." Sam gestured to each chair as he put a name to it. "Mom, Dad, Bobby, Ellen, Jo, Ash, Pam, Gabriel, and Balthazar. He told me that they're going to be watching, so he wants to give them good seats." Dean got slightly choked up for a second, imagining his parents and his friends sitting there, watching as he and Cas tied the knot. Mary would be so proud, and Ellen and Bobby would smile at him, and Jo would give him a hug, and Gabe and Balthazar would be cracking jokes the whole time, no doubt. Cas could apologize for burning Pamela's eyes out. Sam clapped him on the shoulder, breaking him away from his thoughts. "Hey, man," he said. "You ready?" Dean nodded as Sam guided him to stand in front of the table.

Kevin was sitting in the very middle of the empty chairs, and Sam was standing behind Dean in the best man's place. Garth shot Dean a thumbs-up before the door opened again and Cas walked through, looking almost nervously up at Dean as he walked up the "aisle." Dean grinned, and Cas smiled back, finally ending up in front of Dean, twisting his fingers together. Dean took his hands and kissed them both, before holding them as a bridge between their two bodies, looking up at Garth to begin.

The skinny hunter cleared his throat. "Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today, in the sight of this company," he gestured to Kevin, and Dean smirked, "to unite Dean Winchester and Castiel, Angel of the Lord, in Holy matrimony." Dean glanced to Cas and noticed that he still looked incredibly anxious, so he tugged on one of his hands until Cas looked to him.

_Relax_, he mouthed with a soft smile. Cas instinctively tightened his shoulders, his blue eyes full of worry. _I love you_.

That earned him an even bigger smile than before. _I love you, too_, Cas mouthed back. Dean could feel the tension release as they both turned back to Garth.

"…for in coming together in marriage you are committing yourselves exclusively, the one to the other, for as long as you both shall live. Starting with you, Cas." Garth turned to the angel. "Do you, Castiel, take Dean to be your… sort-of lawfully wedded husband; to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, or for worse, for richer, or for poorer, in sickness, and in health? With respect for his integrity and faith in your union, do you promise to unfailingly seek out the best you can in him, loving him every day, in every way, until the end of your forever?"

"I do," answered Cas, beaming.

"And do you, Dean, take Castiel to be your lawfully wedded husband; to have and to hold from this day forward, for b—"

"Better or worse, sickness and health, blah blah blah, I know. Hell yeah I do." Dean squeezed the angel's hand in his with a smile as the words left his lips.

"What tokens of love and respect do you offer each other?" Garth asked, and Dean pulled the rings out of his pocket. While Garth gave his spiel about the spiritual and symbolic meanings of the wedding ring, Dean turned them over in his hand before giving one of them to Cas. They were his parents' wedding rings, which he had tucked away after their deaths for safekeeping. He and Cas had decided that they didn't want rings made, especially when these had so many memories engrained in them, and there was nothing better for them to show their love for each other than the rings of a couple who were destined to be together. Cas would receive Mary's thin silver one, as his fingers were slimmer than Dean's, and Dean would wear John's. When it was time, Dean repeated the words Garth fed him as they made the final promise that would make them husbands.

"Castiel," he spoke, his voice quavering slightly, "I give you this ring as a symbol of my love for you. With all that I am, and with all that I have, I promise to love and honor you always." He paused, and, cursing his shaking hands, slid the ring onto Cas's finger. "With this ring, I thee wed." Cas repeated the pledge, and the finality of it hit Dean all at once as the cold silver band was placed on his ring finger. He was married. Cas was his husband, for the rest of eternity. Forever. The smile split his face from ear to ear, and he couldn't stop even if he had wanted to.

"It is with great pleasure that I pronounce you husband and husband. Now, kiss!" Dean didn't need to be told twice. He grabbed Cas by the waist and pulled him in, their lips finding each other and fingers intertwining as Sam and Kevin and Garth all clapped. When they broke apart, Dean placed his forehead against Cas's.

"I love you," he whispered.

"Me too," Cas murmured back.

"It is with great joy and honor that I now present to you Misters Castiel and Dean Winchester!" Garth exclaimed, and everyone clapped again. Kevin made them stand there for a couple of pictures, and there were lots of hugs and congratulations going around. But finally all the excitement died down, and while the others left to grab a bottle of champagne and the cake that had been baked for the occasion, Dean stood in front of the chairs that would have been his mom and dad's, twisting the ring around and around his finger. Cas held his other hand, and they stood there quietly for a moment, just looking.

"They would have loved you, Cas."

The angel just smiled sadly at Dean. "It's too bad none of them were here to see it," he said, gesturing to all the empty chairs.

"Nah," Dean said, wrapping an arm around his husband's waist. "They're here. We just can't see 'em." He kissed Castiel another time. "Guess what?"

"What?" Cas said, smoothing down Dean's vest with steady hands. Dean grabbed one of his hands and held it over his heart, kissing each finger before responding.

"You're mine. Forever. And that means that you can't leave," Dean chuckled.

"Who says I'd want to?" They both laughed as Dean picked Cas up and spun him around. He held Cas close to him when his feet were back on the floor, the angel's arms around his neck, and they stayed in the embrace for a long time.

"Love you so much, Cas," Dean mumbled into the angel's hair. Cas hummed happily in response, the sound muffled by Dean's chest.

Later on, they'd eat cake and drink champagne, and there would be toasts and emotional speeches that Dean would roll his eyes at, and afterwards Dean and Cas would climb in the Impala and drive off to their home, where they would have the weekend to themselves as their honeymoon. But for now, Dean was content just to hold Cas right here, and stay in this moment as long as life would allow. His husband, for eternity.

Forever.


End file.
